Lessons Learned
by Kristen999
Summary: Another hospital is short staffed, so Carter, Peter, Luka and Romano are their to help out before it is closed down. This is only the beginning of a night of hell for John who encounters a possible evil plot and understands the true spirit of friendship.
1. Default Chapter

Lessons Learned   
  
  
AUTHOR: Kristen   
EMAIL: kdarganin@hotmail.com   
CATEGORY: JC/PB/LKo/RR Angst   
RATING: PG   
SPOILERS: About a month after "Under Control" anything after it has been   
altered.   
ARCHIVE: Yes, just let me know.   
DISCLAIMER: I do now own the characters of ER I am just borrowing   
them for fun.   
AUTHOR'S NOTES: To my wonderful editor Jackie and to all my fellow   
friends who have supported me. If you liked my past stories then this one is   
for you.   
Comments: Will be appreciated and can be sent to kdarganin@hotmail.com   
SUMMARY: What happens when John Carter thinks he's having a bad day?   
It gets worse.   
  
  
  
6:00 a.m.   
  
Carter walked into the admitting area of Grady Memorial Hospital.   
Numerous files obscured the counter, and it appeared as if it hadn't been   
organized in a long time. An older woman looked up upon his arrival with   
not so much as a smile, and pointed her bony finger in the direction of an   
exam area.   
  
"The rest of the docs are in Curtain One. I guess they're waiting for you."   
She turned her attention back to her crossword, not looking at him. She   
adjusted settings on the fan sitting on her desk, and the wind blew her black,   
wavy hair in all directions.   
  
"Ah, how do you know that I'm the one they are waiting on?" Carter asked,   
puzzled.   
  
"Because, young man, I know the entire staff here and you are not one of   
Grady's regular doctors. Want to know my little secret about my exceptional   
mental abilities?" the older woman whispered with her hand cupping her   
face.   
  
Carter decided to amuse the receptionist, and moved closer for her to speak.   
  
"You're wearing a lab coat, sweetie. Now go on, Dr. Logan does not like   
people who are late," she told him.   
  
"Well, thanks," he mumbled, as he headed towards the exam room. Carter   
didn't bother finding a place to put his bag, and tried to slip in on the   
meeting. "No wonder this place is being closed," he muttered to himself. The   
hospital was old, apparently built in the early sixties. Paint was faded on the   
walls, and the floor was grimy despite probable numerous cleanings. The   
facility just didn't look like it was ever maintained properly, and it was a   
shame that no one cared for it.   
  
Carter pulled back the curtain of Exam One, and it nearly fell apart in his   
hand as it glided along the rod. The noise was enough to draw the attention   
of the others who, by the looks of things, were in the middle of a meeting.   
Luka Kovac was leaning on the exam bed, Rocket Romano was next to him   
with a scowl on his face, and Peter Benton, standing in the corner, didn't   
seem too amused. The only person he didn't recognize was an older   
gentleman with salt and pepper hair and a mustache. The doctor that he   
wasn't familiar with turned his attention on Carter without much enthusiasm.   
  
"I presume that you're Dr. Carter," he uttered gruffly.   
  
"Yes, sir. I'm sorry..." Carter began to explain.   
  
"I don't want hear it," the older doctor snapped; then turned his attention to   
Romano. "I see that we get all the disciplinary problems from this little   
staffing arrangement, eh, Robert?" He sneered at the bald doctor. Carter   
watched Dr. Romano stiffen with anger, as Peter stood up straighter,   
obviously irritated.   
  
"Dr. Logan, we are here because this hospital is closing its doors in a few   
weeks, and your pleasant personality couldn't keep all of your staff from   
walking out early. We're here for the patients who would be affected by a   
shortage and not to stroke your tail feathers. Are we clear?" Robert asked   
icily.   
  
"Yeah, whatever. Just don't screw anything up. I didn't want any of you here;   
I had no choice in the matter." Dr. Logan stood long enough to glare at the   
doctors surrounding him, and stormed out of the exam area.   
  
"Well, this is going to be fun," Carter stated with obvious sarcasm.   
  
"Can it, Dr. Carter. You and Dr. Kovac are here to attend to patients. Peter,   
you are to take charge of the OR, while I try to handle the bureaucratic mess   
that this situation has created. We all have jobs to do, so let's do them   
efficiently and with smiles, all right folks?"   
  
Since none of the men said a word, Romano smiled. "Good. If you need   
anything, I'll be upstairs." Without a second look, Robert walked off in the   
opposite direction of Dr. Logan.   
  
"Why were we chosen for this assignment?" Luka asked the remaining   
doctors.   
  
"Because we're all on Robert's short list, Dr. Kovac," Peter replied.   
  
Confused, Carter looked innocently at Peter. "I haven't done anything   
wrong." Carter had looked up at Peter in time to see him shake his head as   
he grabbed several charts from the table in front of him. Ignoring Carter's   
bewildered stare, Peter walked away.   
  
"Ummm, Dr. Benton, what have I done lately? Dr. Benton?" Carter asked   
again, as his former teacher continued to walk away, silence greeting his   
unanswered question.   
  
Luka chuckled. "I think Dr. Benton was just being sarcastic, Carter. I   
wouldn't worry about it. Come on, let's look around and get familiar with   
where everything is." Luka patted Carter on the shoulder, and the younger   
man gave him a brief smile.   
  
"I still don't understand why Dr. Weaver isn't here to handle the   
administrative chaos," Luka said, waving his hand in the direction the two   
were walking.   
  
"I don't know. I heard something about how Dr. Romano doesn't get along   
with Dr. Logan, and he wanted to gloat while his hospital shuts down around   
him. What I don't understand is why this place is still accepting patients to   
begin with, when most of the staff has walked out," Carter told the other   
doctor.   
  
"Just because some of the staff here didn't respect their obligations to this   
hospital does not mean we stop treating patients, Dr. Carter. There are two   
more weeks before we will be forced to close our doors because of budget   
concerns. Even though we are to remain open until then, many of the staff   
left and took well paying private practice positions. Each hospital will send   
four doctors each day to help cover shifts. The two of you will be gone in 36   
hours, and then I will have the joy of dealing with staff members from Rush.   
Don't worry, the labor shortage will be covered by each hospital in the city.   
Know this, we will stay open no matter what, and you will do your assigned   
job." Dr. Logan continued to stare at the duo, who were unnerved that the   
Chief of Staff overheard their discussion. "Is there a problem?" he asked   
with irritation.   
  
"Ah, no sir. We were just..." Carter began.   
  
"Then stop standing around wasting time; go do something useful." Dr.   
Logan seethed.   
  
Carter simply nodded a bit, taken back at such hostility. He headed in the   
direction of the admit desk to pick up some charts. Luka followed, but was   
still close enough to hear Dr. Logan's disparaging remarks.   
  
"For Christ's sakes, I make sure that I didn't spend my remaining time with   
Weaver and they send me another cripple instead," The older doctor said   
under his breath.   
  
Luka spun around in anger at such disrespectful remarks of a fellow   
colleague. It was apparent that Carter had been out of earshot of Dr. Logan's   
comments on Carter's lingering limp. 'This man is a doctor, why would he   
make such callous statements when it's his job to care for sick people?' Luka   
thought. He caught Dr. Logan's attention, and stormed over to where the   
administrator was standing.   
  
"I don't want to hear you use such descriptions around any of my co-   
workers or patients, you understand?" Luka told the man through clenched   
teeth, trying to control his anger.   
  
"Dr. Kovac, I think you misunderstand the chain of authority here. If you   
ever talk to me in such a tone, I'll have you up on suspension." Dr. Logan   
didn't give Luka time to react and walked away, leaving him furious. Luka   
walked back to the admit desk where he overheard Carter introducing   
himself to two nurses. He went over to the counter to make his own   
introduction, when he saw Carter wave him over.   
  
"Sally, this is Dr. Kovac." Carter was extending his hand in the direction of a   
petite young woman with long red hair. She shook Luka's hand, and it was   
obvious to Carter that she was checking Luka out; tilting her head, her eyes   
scanning him from foot back up to his face.   
  
"Nice to meet you," Luka replied.   
  
Carter turned his attention to Linda, an older blonde woman. She looked like   
she worked out, so it was hard to tell her exact age. Before he could   
introduce her as well, she spoke instead.   
  
"And I'm Linda. So, what kind of name is Kovac? Russian, perhaps?" She   
asked, even though it was apparent that she didn't care what his response   
was. Carter knew the effect foreign accents had on women sometimes. He   
smiled in amusement, as Luka looked like he wasn't in the mood for that   
kind of attention so early in the morning.   
  
"No, its Croatian." He replied softly.   
  
Carter sensed that Luka maybe needed a little rescuing, so he decided to help   
his friend out. "Hey, Luka, want to help me find the lounge so I can put by   
bag up?"   
  
"Yeah, I might want to know where to get my next cup of coffee." Luka   
turned and followed him down the hall and to the left. They found the   
lounge, where Carter hung his bag in an opened locker. He then rummaged   
around in what appeared to be a storage locker, where some of the white lab   
coats were hanging. He took off his own lab coat and placed it on one of the   
hangers.   
  
"It's kind of hot in this hospital for that, don't you think?" Luka asked while   
wiping his brow.   
  
Carter shook his head in an affirmative nod. Ever since he walked into this   
place it had felt like a damn sauna. His hair was already sticking to his   
forehead from sweat, and it was still way too early in the morning for such   
heat.   
  
"You're right, I think the air conditioning in this place is broken," Carter   
said, and looked up at Luka to see the man staring at him. "What?" he asked   
suspiciously.   
  
"Nothing, I was just wondering what else is wrong with this facility besides   
the fact that its Chief of Staff makes Romano look like a puppy," Luka   
replied.   
  
"Who knows. I'll be happy when this little transfer is over with." Carter   
walked over to the door and held it open for Luka. They both made their   
way through, in search for any patient to help in an effort to pass the time.   
  
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX   
  
1:00 p.m.   
  
Carter was scribbling notations on the variety of cases he had seen so far. It   
was the usual variety of colds, broken bones, and the obligatory drug   
overdose. Many of the major traumas were being deviated to County as not   
to put a strain on the skeleton crew at Grady. Most of the patients were   
walk-ins, despite the notices that were sent out to try to dissuade people   
from coming unless it was a desire emergency. A few extra techs and nurses   
from Mercy arrived, and went about their duties.   
  
"What is the point of being here?" Carter muttered to himself. He glanced up   
to see Peter walking into the lobby. The surgeon had the same downcast   
appearance that the rest of the lingering staff had.   
  
"What's with your happy mood?" Carter asked upon seeing Peter's irritated   
stance. He had his hands on his hips, and it looked like he was in search of   
someone to chew out for an unnamed offense.   
  
"The damn elevator is broken so I took the stairs down. What kind of   
hospital can't even keep their elevators running?" Peter replied angrily.   
  
Carter shrugged his shoulders and thought about asking him if, at least, the   
air conditioning was working properly up there. He decided not to, and went   
with a more lighthearted topic.   
  
"So, that exciting in the OR?" 'Big mistake,' Carter thought as soon as the   
words left his mouth.   
  
Peter looked at him with an annoyed expression. "There has been one   
trauma the entire morning, and the two other surgeons are not the most   
conversational people in the world," Peter grumbled.   
  
"Since when did you enjoy conversation?" Carter asked.   
  
"Since when do you..."   
  
Peter was interrupted by shouts for help. Carter bolted out of his chair to   
intercept two construction workers having a difficult time bringing in a third,   
convulsing, employee.   
  
"Someone get a gurney!" Peter shouted to one of the nurses, as Carter tried   
to determine the patient's symptoms. Two nurses brought out a gurney and   
the patient was rolled onto it as it was wheeled into a trauma room.   
  
"What happened?" Carter asked as the patient was attached to a cardiac   
monitor.   
  
"He was just standing in the break room when he fell down and started   
shaking," one of his co-workers answered anxiously.   
  
"Is there a history of epilepsy or seizures?" Carter asked, as he tried to hold   
the man down.   
  
"I don't know," the second worker replied, nervously fiddling with his beard.   
  
"Pulse is 140, BP 150/90, and his airway is obstructed," One of the nurses   
informed the doctors, while taking off a blood pressure cuff.   
  
"Okay, I'll intubate," Peter responded, as he went to the head of the gurney.   
"His throat is swollen, I can't see the cords; we need to hold him down,"   
Peter ordered.   
  
Sally grabbed his feet as they were shaking and jerking wildly. Linda   
struggled to keep the patient's upper body still as she desperately added her   
own weight over the patient's chest. Carter attempted to do the same from   
the opposite side and bent over as he tried to place his hands on the patient's   
shoulders.   
  
"What have we got?" Dr. Logan and Romano came in the room in time to   
see the two nurses and Carter unsuccessfully trying to hold the big man   
down as his seizures continued. "We have a thirty year old male with a   
swollen airway, convulsions for three minutes. Dr. Benton's intubating and I   
was about to order phenytoin," Carter replied.   
  
"What's the matter, kid, can't you hold this patient still so he can be properly   
intubated? Move aside!" Dr. Logan ordered; as it was apparent that Carter   
was having great difficulty keeping the patient stable enough for Benton to   
work.   
  
Dr. Logan held onto the big man, as Peter placed the tube down the patient's   
throat and established an airway. Peter glanced up at Carter as he noticeably   
limped away, his hand to his back. The dejected younger doctor moved to   
the corner of the room and watched as the patient's seizures ceased after the   
medication had taken effect.   
  
Dr. Romano looked irritated, as Dr. Logan was giving him the fifth degree   
concerning something, but Carter was too busy chastising himself for being   
inadequate. His range of motion had affected his ability to handle the trauma   
effectively, and he had embarrassed Romano in front of a man that he   
despised. Carter leaned against the wall as Romano and Logan walked with   
the gurney outside; he was oblivious to the fact that Peter was staring at him.   
  
"Hey, Carter?"   
  
"Yeah?" Carter responded, surprised that he wasn't alone in the room.   
  
"You okay?" Peter asked.   
  
"I'm okay, if you call being pushed out of the way during a trauma   
something to be happy about. I'm sure it impressed the hell out of Dr.   
Romano," Carter replied sarcastically.   
  
"Carter, those two are going to be present at anything that can be turned into   
something to argue about. This hospital isn't going to see many patients, and   
they are going to be sticking their noses into everything. Two Chiefs of Staff   
shouldn't be in the ER to begin with."   
  
"Neither should you," Carter answered.   
  
"What else am I going to do? I was selected for this assignment because   
Romano is still pissed about that prescription fiasco, and Dr. Kovac is here   
because he did a procedure without Kerry's permission," Peter tried to reason   
with him.   
  
"So why am I here?" Carter asked angrily. "Is it because this way I won't get   
in the way of any real traumas at County?   
  
"No, Carter, you're a good physician," Peter said matter of factly.   
  
"Yeah, I couldn't even hold that guy down so you could intubate him,"   
Carter said out of disgust.   
  
"Carter, that guy weighed at least 280. You're not ready to handle King   
Kong. It's going to take some time." Peter looked at his former student,   
trying to convey to him some confidence he knew Carter lacked.   
  
"I guess you're right. I'm going to do some more chart reviews." Carter   
turned around and began to walk off.   
  
"Hey, Carter, you need to give yourself some time. In the mean time, don't   
strain yourself and be careful with the bending," Peter told him in his doctor   
tone.   
  
"Don't worry, Dr. Benton, I know my limitations." Carter left Peter in the   
trauma room and went in search of a place to sit down and relax for a   
minute.   
  
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXxxxxx   
  
Carter wandered down to the cafeteria. It had been confusing locating it at   
first, since the one at County was upstairs; but in the older Grady the dining   
area was below the admittance floor. John stared at the lack of variety of   
lunch choices, and finally settled for a turkey sandwich and some orange   
juice. He headed for an empty table, when he ran into Luka chatting with   
Sally, the nurse he had met earlier.   
  
"What's going on?" Carter asked as he slid into one of the unoccupied chairs.   
  
"There's a political rally going on downtown for some art museum's opening   
ceremony. Traffic is jammed and all emergency vehicles are being directed   
there because there are protesters outside causing trouble," Sally explained.   
  
"Protesters at an art exhibit?" Carter asked with confusion.   
  
"Apparently the politician is pro-choice, and since the elections are heating   
up the city sent a lot of police to keep everything peaceful," Luka explained.   
"Look at it this way, that means less emergencies for us."   
  
"How's that?" Carter questioned.   
  
"It ties up all traffic coming north; Rush and County are on the other side of   
the mess and will get whatever units that respond to calls," Sally interjected.   
  
"So in other words, County is going to be short two doctors and two   
surgeons and they are going to be getting an excessive about of traumas.   
Unbelievable!" Carter exclaimed, visibly upset.   
  
"Carter, it's only for two days, then Rush replaces us with their staff. Mark   
and the others will get by just fine, there are plenty of people to cover. Why   
are you so upset?" Luka asked, clearly puzzled by the level of irritation that   
Carter was displaying.   
  
"Because I should be back at County, not here because people think I need   
to take it easy or something." Carter sat back down in his chair dejectedly.   
  
"I don't understand your line of reasoning, Carter. I don't really think there   
was any motivation behind who was selected for this assignment. I thought it   
was for some of the problems of late, when Dr. Romano decided to take a   
vested interest in the ER. Who knows? I think your level of patient care has   
been fine since you returned." Luka carefully studied Carter's expression. On   
one hand, he appeared to concur, but his body language seemed to suggest   
he wasn't buying it.   
  
"Has anyone said something to you?" Luka asked, wondering if any of the   
staff were concerned. As far as he knew, everything at County had been   
running fine, with the exception of the prescription screw up between Dr.   
Finch and Dr. Benton. Luka had his own patients to be concerned with and   
never noticed if there were some performance problems.   
  
"No, well, except for Dr. Logan," Carter responded.   
  
"Carter, Dr. Logan is a jerk. I wouldn't pay him any attention. I know Dr.   
Romano doesn't." Luka chuckled.   
  
"Well I guess you're right. The elevators don't work, the air conditioning is   
broken, and the Chief of Staff hates me. What else could go wrong?" Carter   
asked, even thought he knew whenever he said things like that, they always   
came back to bite him in the ass. Just when he was about to take that   
statement back, his beeper went off. He glanced down at it.   
  
"Looks like I spoke to soon. I've got a patient." Carter saw Luka getting up,   
and he motioned for him to remain seated. "It's not anything I can't handle, if   
I need your help I'll let you know." Carter stuffed his hands in his pockets   
and headed back to the ER.  
  
Carter ran into Linda, who was patiently waiting for his arrival. She was   
holding a chart, and handed it to Carter. "There's an elderly lady with facial   
pain in exam two," she told him without enthusiasm.   
  
Carter nodded, and reached out for the door handle. He stopped when he felt   
a hand on his arm.   
  
"Just to warn you, Dr. Logan is on the prowl and your Dr. Romano is not   
keeping him in a good mood. Just watch your step, okay? He wasn't very   
happy at the thought of having to work with people from County." She gave   
him a serious look.   
  
"I'll try to stay out of his way," Carter answered glumly. He took a deep   
breath; attempting to calm his nerves.   
  
Carter walked into Exam Two, where he found an elderly lady with the most   
beautiful silver hair he had ever seen. She was sitting on the gurney quietly,   
and glanced up when he entered the room. He saw tears running down her   
face, which she hastily dabbed away with a tissue. Carter hurried into the   
room and grabbed the chart off the bed. He scanned for her name, and   
smiled reassuringly.   
  
"Good afternoon, Mrs. Cobb. I'm Dr. Carter, what seems to be the problem   
today?" Carter asked good naturedly. It upset him to see this woman in such   
distress.   
  
"W-wellll, my face has been hurting f-f-for hours. I, I I, I haven't b-been able   
to feel the left side since I woke up," Mrs. Cobb managed with great   
difficulty. She took her tissue and wiped her mouth as some saliva ran down   
her chin. Carter dug into his pants pocket and retrieved a clean cloth. He   
handed it to Mrs. Cobb, who took it gratefully.   
  
"I-I am so sorry, dear. You're so s-s-sweet. Please call m-me Judith." She   
tried to smile.   
  
"Don't worry about it Judith, let's just see if I can find out what is wrong, all   
right?" Carter gave her arm a gentle squeeze. "So, you have had pain in you   
face. Has it been localized to any side, or is it your entire face?" Carter   
asked, while examining her head. He gently placed his hands on her   
cheekbones.   
  
"It hurts on the left side," She repeated.   
  
Carter took out his pen light and peeled back each eyelid, watching her   
pupils dilate. He then took her left arm and lifted it up in the air. "Please   
hold it up for a few seconds," Carter gently instructed her. Judith nodded,   
and she kept her arm still in the air, as Carter repeated the procedure on her   
right arm as well. He had her squeeze his wrist with each hand.   
  
"Could you please stand up for me?" he asked, while backing up to give her   
room.   
  
She stood easily, but stopped momentarily to wipe away some more spittle   
that ran down from her mouth. She took Carter's hankie and wiped it away,   
obviously embarrassed. Her left eye was tearing again, and Carter gave her a   
few seconds to compose herself.   
  
"You're doing fine, Judith. Now could you lift up you right foot slightly?"   
Carter stood next to her, just in case she became dizzy and needed help.   
Judith lifted her right foot, and then repeated the exercise with her left one.   
Carter flipped through her chart, noting the nurse's observations and vitals.   
Carter heard the door open, and Dr. Logan and Peter Benton walked into the   
room. He groaned inwardly, wondering if the hospital would ever get busy   
enough so the surgeons would have something to do.   
  
Peter walked up to Carter's side, giving him a casual glance. "What do you   
have, Carter?"   
  
"Well, this is Judith, 63 years old, complaining about pain at the left side of   
her face. No complaints of headaches, no numbness in her hands or legs, no   
dysarthria, and her upper and lower extremity strength is 5/5 bilaterally."   
Carter didn't look over at Dr. Logan, solely focusing on Peter.   
  
Benton flipped through the chart as Dr. Logan took the stethoscope off his   
neck and listened to her heart. Peter finished reading over the chart and   
stared at Carter. "Go on," he said.   
  
"As I was saying, blood pressure is only slightly elevated at 140/90, pulse is   
110 and she is exhibiting left sided facial droop. I want to order some neuro   
tests to rule out Bell's Palsy, and maybe a CT," Carter replied.   
  
Dr. Logan slid his stethoscope around his neck and spun around. "Maybe a   
CT, Dr. Carter? I think it's quite obvious that Mrs. Cobb most likely suffered   
a stroke and should be sent to radiology right away." He didn't even bother   
to hide the arrogance in his voice.   
  
"I have to disagree, Dr. Logan. Her blood pressure isn't that high, she's   
responsive, and doesn't seem to have any problems with muscle   
coordination. I believe nerve conduction studies checks are in order." Carter   
stood his ground.   
  
Dr. Logan shook his head. "There is no need to have such expensive tests in   
this case. Send her for a CT and go on to your next patient." Dr. Logan   
grabbed the chart from Benton and scribbled a few notes into it.   
  
Peter couldn't remain silent. "Maybe Dr. Carter, can send her for a head CT   
to rule out a stroke, and then if it is negative, he can perform the necessary   
neurological tests." Peter glanced up at Carter to let him know he had some   
support in his corner. He saw Carter shift from foot to foot, something he   
often did when trying to channel nervous energy.   
  
"Fine, you want to waste hospital money, go ahead." Dr. Logan snarled.   
  
"Can we take this outside please?" Carter asked, nodding slightly towards   
the patient, who was nervous enough, as it was, without worrying about if   
her diagnosis was in question. It was the last thing on his mind, and should   
be the last thing on his patient's mind. He was always worried about the   
standard of care for elderly patients. It really aggravated him when doctors   
didn't do necessary testing just because their patient was old. It was like they   
thought the elderly patients didn't deserve the same standard of care.   
  
"Fine, Dr. Carter, but if you want to do neuro conductive testing, you'll have   
to search for the equipment upstairs where it is stored. The technicians are   
gone for the day, and I won't authorize you to page a tech to come in for this   
unnecessary testing. Most of the equipment has been packed away for a   
supply transfer. And when she comes back with CT results indicative of a   
stroke, I want you to explain to Dr. Romano why expensive testing was   
administered to a Medicare/Medicaid patient, and I'll make County absorb   
the cost."   
  
"Fine by me. Which floor is the equipment stored on?" Carter tried to hide   
his irritation from his voice.   
  
"On the Neurology floor, Doctor. Do I need you to draw you a map? Maybe   
Dr. Benton can hold your hand as you try to find it." Dr. Logan gave both   
men a sneer, and left.   
  
Peter sighed heavily and watched the door close in his face. "The most likely   
explanation is a stroke, Carter, but not everything is as it appears. Besides,   
that man needs to have an attitude adjustment." Benton patted Carter on the   
back, and continued the annoying task of following Grady's Chief of Staff   
around.   
  
Carter returned to the exam room to let Judith know what his plan of action   
was. He saw her sitting there, her hand clutching the hankie that he had   
given her. She appeared to be frightened, Judith looked up at his return.   
Carter pulled up a chair and sat next to her. She grabbed his hand, in need of   
strength.   
  
"Dr. Carter, I didn't mean to get you in trouble with your boss," she told him.   
  
"Judith, you didn't do anything. It's my job to take care of you, which I am   
going to do." Carter smiled and took his other hand and placed it on top of   
her's. "I want to rule out something that could be causing you some pain. I   
need to go find the tests that are needed. Okay?"   
  
"I trust you, young man. I just don't want your boss to yell at you over me,"   
She replied sincerely.   
  
"That's easy, Judith; he's not my boss." Carter rose from the chair and   
walked out into the hallway to call for a nurse. He saw Sally acknowledge   
him, and went back to talk to his patient.   
  
"While I go search for those tests, you're going to go to the fourth floor to   
have a special x-ray called a CT, a scan of your head. It's just a precaution,   
and it won't hurt a bit." Carter extended his hand to help her stand, when   
Sally came in with a wheelchair. Judith was situated and taken to radiology.   
  
Carter slumped back down to the chair. He calculated his actions, knowing   
that what he was doing was proper procedure. He had been right with tricky   
diagnoses before, and wasn't about to let his patient's care suffer because of   
Dr. Logan's smugness. Carter careful stretched his back, since it had been   
aching ever since the previous trauma. Today promised to be long and   
tiresome, and he needed to pace himself without gardening attention from   
his co-workers. He headed for the elevator to track down the needed   
equipment.   
  
Carter stood in front of the elevator for a very long five minutes, passing the   
time by watching the activity of the staff. The hospital really lacked spark of   
life or care. He missed County and couldn't wait to return. Carter glanced up   
at the elevator again, noticing that the fourth floor light was still lit. It still   
hadn't moved. Carter was getting impatient when he noticed Luka walking   
towards him.   
  
"Hey, Carter," he said listlessly.   
  
"Hi, Dr. Kovac, I'm just waiting for this stupid elevator."   
  
"Yeah, I saw you standing there. I just received a call from maintenance, it's   
having difficulties and it won't come back down," the other doctor told him   
with a hint of amusement.   
  
"You've got to be kidding!" Carter exclaimed. "I just sent a patient up there   
for a CT." He looked back at Luka to see the other doctor laughing.   
  
"What's so funny?" Carter asked, currently not seeing anything humorous   
about the situation.   
  
"I'm sorry, Carter. Your patient made it up there, its just that you can't see to   
catch a break today. They said it'll only be a few minutes." Luka controlled   
his laughter, noting that Carter wasn't amused. The day had been intense,   
and watching Carter endure one setback after another was not something to   
laugh about, but he couldn't help it.   
  
"Both of them are out of order and we're an emergency hospital; I'm glad I'm   
not a patient with an urgent need," Carter said sarcastically. "I'll take the   
stairs," he told Luka, frustrated and left the man before he could be chastised   
for being impatient.   
  
Carter was on his third flight of stairs when he realized he was losing steam.   
His back screamed in pain. He should have waited for the elevator and saved   
himself some aggravation. He was heading for the fourth flight of strairs   
when his left foot slipped slightly. He grabbed the railing fiercely for   
balance. He stood there for a second, simply concentrating on breathing.   
Sweat dripped down his face, and Carter shakily wiped it away. God, he   
hoped no one decided to use the stairs this very moment, he knew he would   
probably frighten them with his instability.   
  
Carter carefully composed himself and ascended the final flight to the fifth   
floor. He entered a quiet hallway, almost out of breath. He scanned the area   
in an effort to find the right storage room. He spotted one just a few feet   
down the hall. He searched for a light switch, and was surprised to discover   
how large the room was.   
  
There were dozens of metal shelves stuffed with countless boxes of supplies.   
Crates were stacked up against the wall, and boxes just sat in the middle of   
the room collecting dust. The ceiling tiles looked like they were about to   
come crashing down and the area was in complete disarray.   
  
"Just great, this place hasn't seen organization in years. It's a dumping   
ground for unused equipment," Carter said out loud. He saw gallon-sized   
containers of chemicals in the far corner stacked against the wall. Searching,   
Carter started with the bottom shelf, and could tell it contained various   
cardio supplies. He went through three more tiers until he came upon the   
fourth one. It held, some neuro equipment, but mostly EKG pads. There   
were bottles of chemicals that lacked proper labels. He decided that the few   
pieces of neurological equipment that were here indicated that his test might   
be lurking in one of the nearby boxes.   
  
Unable to reach anything beyond the fourth shelf, Carter glanced around the   
room and noticed a ladder. He grabbed it, and slowly dragged it over to the   
storage units.   
  
Carter gazed ominously at the ladder, debating the logistics of climbing it.   
The neuro kit he needed was probably somewhere on the top shelve that he   
could not reach. The entire storage area was totally miscatergarized and   
basically, a mess. Sighing with contempt at the situation, Carter took hold of   
the ladder and shook it to verify that it was stable. It didn't seem to be   
wobbly, so he locked it into place and carefully scaled its steps.   
  
The metal shelves were dusty, and Carter scanned the various unlabeled   
boxes for its contents. Each box contained unused vials of chemicals. In fact,   
the fifth and sixth shelves were full of containers of iodine and betazine. 'No   
wonder this place is being shut down,' Carter mused. You didn't place large   
containers of chemicals on the higher levels of a shelf. Since the bottom   
ones were packed with boxes, some lazy person just placed them in the first   
empty space.   
  
Feeling a bit uneasy, Carter looked down to see that he was up pretty high,   
and hoped that his back wouldn't pick this very moment to spasm.   
Concentrating on the task in front of him, Carter rummaged through more   
boxes until he came across the neuro test that was needed.   
  
Ironically, this box was perfectly labeled, and Carter reached out to grab it.   
Forgetting for a moment about the condition of his back he reached out   
slightly too far, causing a sharp pain to run down his back and into his left   
leg. Carter gasped and involuntarily let go of the box in order to grab a   
steadying hold of the shelf. As his hand violently secured itself on a part of   
the shelf to prevent him from falling, it caused the steel structure to shake   
from the commotion.   
  
This quickly set about a set of reaction chain of events. The shelf shook,   
which startled Carter enough that he grasped it more firmly to steady himself   
while the pain subsided. By doing so, Carter lost his balance, causing the   
ladder to lurch from the shift in weight. Carter tried to prevent the inevitable   
fall by lashing out at the metal structure in front of him, but was at a loss for   
control. All he managed to do was wrap his fingers around part of the shelf   
as he plummeted downward.   
  
Carter crashed to the floor in a heap, and the ladder fell sideways, hitting the   
shelf. The result was a thunderous crash as boxes of chemicals and supplies   
clattered against the floor. Carter covered his face with his hands as falling   
bottles of iodine shattered near him; he removed his arm after verifying that   
there was no more flying debris.   
  
Carter craned his neck at the mess that was created by the his lack of finesse.   
He remained sprawled on the floor as he mentally went over various parts of   
his body for damage. He landed on his right shoulder and it was throbbing,   
but he knew that he hadn't broken anything. He had not hit his head, and   
after a moment came to the conclusion that he was just momentarily   
stunned.   
  
After assessing his situation, Carter brought himself up into a sitting   
position; unconsciously rubbing at the soon-to-be-sore muscles in his back.   
He stood up slowly and only felt a slight twinge from the movement; he had   
been pretty lucky. He hadn't actually fallen that far, but in his condition he   
had to be careful. He would keep this little incident from the others. They   
didn't need to worry, especially with all the hell going on downstairs.   
  
Not wanting to leave the mess, Carter knelt down; bending with his knees.   
There was a pool of liquid spreading over the floor, leaving purple blotches.   
Some of the caps of the betazine containers had popped off somehow, too.   
That chemical was colorless, so it was difficult to tell where it had spilt.   
Carter searched for something to soak the chemicals with, and noticed the   
crates in the corner. There were several rags sitting on top, and he made his   
way over to retrieve them.   
  
Cursing at his horrible luck in the catastrophe resulting, he had not even   
being able to find a simple test. Carter didn't see the spilled liquids spreading   
over to the wall. If he had looked up for just a moment, he might have   
noticed the bundle of electrical wiring that was hanging from an unprotected   
outlet to the left of the shelve. The corroded wires quickly came into contact   
with the chemical mix, and resulting in a spark. A series of little bits of blue,   
sparks, jumped from wire to wire, and finally a shower of electric current   
spark, igniting the chemical spill.   
  
After gathering some of the soaked linen, Carter turned around and saw   
flames spreading across the floor. He was momentarily in shock, watching in   
horrid fascination as the pools of liquid soon had flames dancing upon it. It   
was like one of those little fires one saw on television, being fueled by an oil   
spill or something similar. Carter's shock and awe subsided when the flames   
quickly spread from the chemical spill over to where several boxes still   
remained on the ground.   
  
Carter cursed under his breath, "Why does this is always happen to me?" he   
shouted to nobody in particular. He ran over to the shelves and tried to   
smother the flames with his soaked rags. Only after a few moments he   
realized that this was not the proper way to douse a chemical fire, and   
looked around for some flour.   
  
'There's not going to be any flour in the middle of a storage room!' He   
chastised himself. Instincts right. Location wrong. Panic started to take a   
hold of him when the fire engulfed the cardboard boxes, growing larger and   
more menacing as a result.   
  
"All right, get rid of the source of fuel. No problem," Carter spoke to   
himself, trying to keep his panic at bay. Unfortunately, the flaming boxes   
contained other sets of chemicals, and one of them the boxes, exploded as   
the fire ignited the contents of the bottles inside. The explosion startled   
Carter as he stepped away from the growing flames. The entire set of shelves   
were being consumed by flames as the fire spread from shelf to shelf, eating   
up boxes of chemicals and various paper products.   
  
The shelves became a virtual wall of flames, lapping upwards searching for   
more fuel. When the fire first ignited Carter thought he could quickly put it   
out, since he recalled not seeing a soul that could have aided him in this   
emergency. Forgetting how fast chemical fires spread, he was overwhelmed   
by its intensity and he knew he had no choice, but leave the room in search   
of help. He looked across the room to the door he had originally entered, and   
was about to make a run for it when he made a startling discovery. Only a   
few feet away from the shelving units were stacks of oxygen tanks.   
  
"Oh god, if they ignite the tanks..." He gasped out loud as he ran his hand   
through his hair. Carter began searching for a fire alarm. Clouds of white   
smoke were beginning to fill the room, and Carter's throat was becoming   
scratchy. Breathing lungs full of poisonous smoke was not a healthy thing to   
do, but it was better then being caught in an explosion if the fire reached the   
oxygen tanks.   
  
Carter was desperate; he ran to the other side of the room, past the tanks, in   
search of a fire extinguisher. Scared and panicked, he began to throw boxes   
out of the way that were blocking parts of the wall. There had to be an   
extinguisher somewhere in this room. Finally, out of the corner of his eye,   
he spotted a red tank mounted by one of the closet doors. It appeared to be   
years old, and looked dauntingly heavy.   
  
With a groan, Carter picked it up realizing it weighed a ton. He had already   
climbed a ladder and fallen. It didn't matter that he was picking up a heavy   
object. He knew Dr. Benton would not be very happy with all the risks he   
had taken already, he mused. The extinguisher weighed about twenty   
pounds, and his back seared in pain from the effort of carrying it back across   
the room.   
  
The flames had jumped from one shelf to the other, and so one. The fire was   
not engulfing the walls since they were fire resistant; however, the floor was   
covered in chemicals from the spill and the fire was growing larger from it.   
Moving towards larger sources of air, it rose towards the ceiling, turning the   
tiles black. White smoke was filling the room completely and Carter   
wondered why there was no alarm, and why no one noticed the smoke   
coming from storage facility.   
  
He dragged the fire extinguisher across the littered floor and aimed the hose   
at the flames in front of him. His eyes were burning, and tears streaked down   
his face causing his vision to blur. Trying to breathe as little as possible,   
Carter took his other hand and put his nose and mouth under the collar of his   
shirt. He then stepped as close to the growing wall of fire as he dared, and   
squeezed the trigger of the hose.   
  
For a few moments a white mist made contact with the flames beating it   
back towards the shelves, but the air pressure from the repellent quickly   
sputtered, and the mist ceased. Carter looked down at the extinguisher in   
defeat, and decided now was the time to make a dash for the exit. The wall   
of fire was now spreading over the ceiling above his head. Carter knew that   
the fireproof walls would trap the flames in the room, causing it to build up   
and explode. After a giant explosion, there was nothing he could do to stop it   
from setting the rest of the hospital ablaze.   
  
Carter dropped the useless extinguisher, and limped heavily towards the   
door, as a spasm tore through his back. Just as he was about to reach the   
door handle, there was a giant explosion; its force knocked Carter painfully   
into the wall. Flames roared behind him as the heat in the room rose   
dramatically. Carter hung onto the wall for support as the fumes and smoke   
caused him to cough and gag. Knowing he was a dead man if he didn't   
move, Carter slid to the floor and crawled out of the room.   
  
The last thing he heard, as he valiantly tried to scramble away, were a series   
of small explosion as the fire hit the rest of the oxygen tanks.  
  
  
After two hours of being forced to follow the man around the hospital, Peter   
Benton had finally been able to get rid of Dr. Logan. There was no real   
reason why he was being forced to listen to the administrator's lectures, but   
Peter had a feeling it was to keep him off of Romano's back. Then without   
warning, all hell had broken loose. Romano had approached his nemesis,   
some piece of paperwork required Logan's signature, but this only resulted   
in an argument, from which Peter was quickly dismissed. Benton could still   
hear the screaming match as he walked away in search of something to do.   
  
Peter didn't want to return to the OR, especially since there were no patients   
pending, so he was forced to find something to do on the ER floor. As he   
came across the admit desk, he noticed Luka trying to avoid a conversation   
with an overly aggressive female nurse. It amused him to see the other   
doctor try to remain friendly and at the same time avoid the woman's   
advances. The man certainly had an effect on women, it seemed. Normally   
Peter would let him suffer, but since he was bored, he decided to intercede.   
  
"Dr. Kovac, are there any surgical patients down here?" he asked, knowing   
full well that he would have been paged if he were needed.   
  
"No, Dr. Benton there are none, but I could use your advice about   
something. Why don't you follow me into the lounge so we can discuss it in   
private?" Luka said, with much more vigor then was needed.   
  
Peter couldn't hide his grin over Luka's situation. The man needed to learn   
some lessons about women, Peter thought to himself.   
  
"I owe you one," Luka whispered when they were far enough away from   
Linda.   
  
"I think all of us are owed big time for this idiotic assignment," Peter said   
dryly. He hated it when it was slow over at County, but this   
misappropriation of faculty was totally inexcusable. The only reason they   
were here was probably to feed Romano's ego and ridiculous desire to pull   
others with him into hell, Peter thought.   
  
"Yeah, that Dr. Logan is a real jerk. He's been riding all of us pretty hard all   
day, and his attitudes towards patient care is repulsive," Luka said with   
contempt.   
  
"Yeah, he was giving Carter a hard time about his diagnosis of an elderly   
patient earlier. I happened to agree with Logan's assessment, but he didn't   
need to grill Carter in front of her. Its just plain disrespectful to do that in   
front of a patient," Peter responded, his voice rising just a bit louder then he   
intended.   
  
"He was commenting about Carter's limp behind his back, and then went on   
to insult Dr. Weaver's handicap. What kind of doctor makes insulting   
remarks about medical conditions? Does the man lack any kind of respect   
for others?" Luka asked, already knowing the answer.   
  
Peter scowled in confusion and growing anger. "He was making fun of   
Carter?" he asked, outraged at such disregard towards a colleague.   
  
Luka was startled by Peter's tone. It was angry, and Luka could emphasize,   
but he never really suspected the level of protectiveness that was evident in   
Peter's voice. Luka decided that a confrontation with Logan would not do   
anyone any good.   
  
"Yeah, he was, but I'm sure he didn't mean it." Luka responded not wanting   
to cause a confrontation between Peter and Dr. Logan.   
  
"He didn't mean it? What kind of excuse is that, Kovac? What did Logan   
say?" Peter tersely asked. He didn't notice the fact that he had closed the gap   
between Luka and himself, and had cornered the other doctor.   
  
Luka stepped to the side; Peter's rapid breathing was making him   
uncomfortable. "I don't remember, Dr. Benton, I think he called Carter a   
cripple," Luka responded, almost murmuring the last part.   
  
Peter's frown deepened and he started looking around. The fact that he   
remained silent was making Luka nervous. Was the surgeon really that   
upset? He never really showed any concern concerning colleagues before,   
but he knew that his relationship with Carter was a unique one.   
  
"Don't be looking for trouble. You don't want to make Carter's day any   
harder, do you?" Luka asked when he became concerned that the surgeon   
was looking for Dr. Logan.   
  
"Don't worry about me, Kovac. I'm just going to have a little talk with   
Romano to find out exactly why we were all dragged here for in the first   
place," Peter replied.   
  
"We're all being subjected for disciplinary actions," Luka told him, knowing   
Peter didn't like to be reminded about his mix up with Dr. Finch.   
  
"Yeah, I now that," Peter replied, leaving the rest of his thoughts unspoken.   
  
"Except, Carter hasn't been written up for anything, and he knows that. He   
was talking about it earlier. You wouldn't know anything about that, would   
you?" Luka asked. He didn't conceal the accusative tone he took, but he   
knew that Peter Benton had been a bit more involved in overseeing Carter's   
recovery then he let on.   
  
"Even if I did, I wouldn't tell you," Peter stated, leaving Luka alone.   
  
Luka watched the other doctor walk away, wondering what he had done to   
get on his bad side. He knew Peter had a reputation for being a hard ass, but   
he was Carter's friend, too. He didn't know him as well as Benton, but he   
never suspected the two to be buddies, or anything similar. Just every once   
in a while, Peter Benton seemed to surprise him. Benton showed him   
kindness when he brought in the little girl who had been hurt in a hit and   
run. 'However, sometimes the man was a jerk,' Luka thought.   
  
Luka went to one of the exam areas where he saw Linda evaluating a new   
patient. In the meantime, Luka became aware the he had not seen Carter in a   
while, since he had gone upstairs. 'Still attending to that elderly woman that   
Peter mentioned, Luka mused. 'I'm sure its more interesting then what his   
new patient looked like.' Luka grabbed the patient's chart.   
  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx   
  
  
Carter scampered out of the room on his hands and knees. He felt the heat on   
his back as he continued down the hall. One large flame lashed out with the   
release of the oxygen, but it was sucked back into the storage room. The   
flames were spreading along the ceiling of the hallway as the fire sought   
more oxygen to fuel it. The fire was not consuming the walls, but the ceiling   
tiles were being eaten away. The white smoke was seeping into the hallway,   
and Carter kept his head down to avoid the fumes.   
  
The combination of the sweat dripping over his face and the smoke was   
making him disorientated. His throat burned, and he tried to take fewer   
breaths. Carter moved forward hurriedly, knowing the heat was behind him   
and gaining.   
  
'Why in the hell weren't the water sprinklers and alarms going off? This   
damn place,' Carter thought. He made it to the middle of the hall, grateful   
now that there didn't appear to be any patients. He heard a shout and looked   
to see a man racing towards him.   
  
A guy in scrubs bent down and grabbed Carter underneath the arms to help   
him stand. He stood up and swayed a bit. "Whoa, there! What the hell   
happened? We better get out of here!" the stranger said.   
  
"We need to alert..." Carter was seized by a fit of coughing.   
  
"We need to get out of here!" The man dragged Carter over to the elevator.   
  
"No! The elevator's out, we need to take the stairs!" Carter yelled.   
  
"Okay, can you walk?" the man asked, panicked.   
  
"I'm fine, we need to go back!" Carter indicated by jerking his head back the   
way they had come. When he looked up, he saw the blurry image of the fire   
creeping up the ceiling, it was spreading in both directions. The fire was   
burning its way back to the stairwell and coming in their direction.   
  
"Are you crazy? The fire's blocking our path, there has to be another way!"   
the man cried out.   
  
"Hey! Calm down, we can't lose our heads. I'm Carter, thanks for grabbing   
me." Carter needed to keep his cool and having his newfound friend freak   
out on him wasn't going to help matters.   
  
"My names Taylor, I'm a neurologists tech, all the other docs are either   
home or wandering around here. Now, we need to get the hell out!"   
  
The two stayed crouched down on the opposite end of the hallway away   
from the fire and Carter knew that they needed to stop wasting time. The   
hallway was becoming dense with fumes.   
  
"Okay, put your shirt over your mouth. We'll both take deep breaths and run   
as fast as we can, it's the only way." Carter watched as Taylor pulled his   
shirt scrub over his mouth and nodded.   
  
"On the count of three! One...two...three!" Carter yelled, and they both ran   
right towards the flames that were flooding their path back to the stairwell.   
  
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx   
  
  
Rocket Romano was not a happy man. He should be ecstatic, even jovial,   
but instead he was here, depressed. He was here to gloat over Logan's   
misfortune, but all that he endured was the man's pompous attitude. The last   
thing he wanted to do was butt heads with Peter Benton, the arrogant   
surgeon. Not that he didn't admire arrogance, he loved it. Just not when it   
was in competition with his own. He liked Peter, but he also wanted to keep   
his distance from the man. Yet, Peter Benton was pacing outside his   
borrowed office like some enrage lion. 'This is not what I need right now,'   
Romano thought to himself.   
  
Knowing he couldn't keep the man waiting, he signaled him in, and Benton   
strode inside, his eyes filled with irritation.   
  
"What can I do for you, Peter?" Romano asked in his most pleasant voice.   
  
"What you can do is tell me what the hell are we doing here?" Peter barked.   
  
"Dr. Benton, as I understand the duties of my position, I don't believe they   
include telling you my reasons for anything." Romano replied smoothly.   
  
"It does when you've dragged two doctors and myself to this hell of a   
hospital to endure some little power play with Dr. Logan! I don't appreciate   
it one bit, and neither do the others." Peter spoke in the loudest voice   
possible without actually yelling at his Chief.   
  
"For your information, I chose you, Peter, because you're a great surgeon   
and I wanted to show Logan what he's missing from his staff. I also wanted   
to teach you and Kovac a little lesson concerning your recent behavior. Do   
you see the atmosphere around you, Peter?" Romano rose from his seat and   
motioned around him.   
  
Unable to respond, Peter merely nodded.   
  
"Good. Take a long hard look. Dr. Logan is an incompetent, arrogant son of   
a bitch, and he let what used to be a great hospital fall to pieces. I wanted   
you to see for yourself what can happen when all those things like pesky   
rules and regulation are not followed." Romano stated.   
  
"I don't understand," Peter replied.   
  
"I know. This hospital was run under Dr. Logan's law, not under the proper   
administration. I wanted you and Kovac to learn what could happen if you   
didn't have someone like me around," Romano concluded with a smile.   
  
"Fine, thanks for the lesson. This doesn't explain why Carter is here. What   
lessons does he need to learn?" Peter asked, crossing his arms in front of   
him.   
  
"Dr. Carter. Hmmm, well young Dr. Carter is my concern, not yours,"   
Romano replied, obviously not wanting to discuss it.   
  
"Since when is he your concern?" Peter asked, pressing the issue.   
  
Romano got out of his chair once more and strode over to where the other   
surgeon was standing. "Since when was he yours?" he asked, waiting for   
Peter to react.   
  
"I was his teacher," he replied simply. Seeing that this wasn't enough to   
convince his boss, Peter distractedly glanced around the office, not wanting   
to look Romano in the eye. "I was his surgeon during, you know." Peter   
didn't want to elaborate.   
  
Romano knew what the other doctor was implying and unconsciously   
moved his bottom jaw back and forth. "Yes, you were his surgeon, but Dr.   
Carter is not your patient anymore."   
  
"I want to know why he's here. Is that too much to ask?" Peter was getting   
agitated.   
  
"Why is there a problem?" Romano was tired of this conversation already.   
What was causing Benton so much distress?   
  
"I don't like the fact that he's being harassed by Dr. Logan all the time, and   
he believes that he was sent here because we don't think he can do his job. Is   
there any truth to that, Dr. Romano?"   
  
"For someone who is so concerned for a fellow colleague, you don't pay too   
much attention what's going around you, Peter." Romano switched subjects,   
noting Benton's further irritation with amusement. "What are you talking   
about? Is there something going on with Carter?" Peter was becoming fed up   
with playing games when all he wanted was some straight answers. Romano   
wasn't quick enough for Peter's liking, and he couldn't hold back his anger   
anymore.   
  
"Listen here Dr. Romano, its one thing to jerk some one around because he   
didn't follow every rule to the letter. However, Carter has had a very   
traumatic experience, and he needs to know that he can do his job without   
worrying that others are prying into his business." Peter watched Romano   
for a rebuke, but since he felt like the man was going to ridicule him, he   
wanted to say one final thing. "Carter is a good doctor--"   
  
"I know quite well Dr. Carter's abilities. That's why I had him sent here in   
the first place." Romano interrupted. He placed his hand out to signal to   
Peter that he would have his say. "I lost a good med student that night   
despite all my effort to save her. We let the lax in hospital policy result in a   
brutal attack on two of our own. Now one of them is dead, and the other one   
is doing a good job of pretending that nothing happened that night."   
  
Peter stood there, confused at the direction of the conversation and the fact   
that Rocket Romano was sharing his feelings with him, of all people. Not   
knowing what to say, he just listened.   
  
"I may not have an active role in the ER, but I know when one of its doctors   
is having a difficult time. Surgery is my life. I don't have kids, I don't have a   
need for a wife. I live and breathe medicine, nothing distracts me. Since I   
don't let things like the ordinary world deter me, I have noticed that Carter is   
not adjusting well to his return. I know that his physician signed off on him   
to returning to work, and some of the staff have concerns about it being too   
soon. However, concern can get lost in the hustle and bustle of daily life."   
  
Romano paused to make sure his unwilling listener was still with him.   
Satisfied, continued his train of thought. "I wanted Carter to take it easy,   
under a less rigorous set of circumstances. Since this place is shutting down,   
I thought it would be good for him to take it slower and for me to keep an   
eye on him. After this shift, I'm going to recommend to Kerry that we   
redefine Carter's workload."   
  
Peter couldn't hold back while Romano told him that his colleague was unfit   
for work. "Carter is doing fine considering all that's he's been through. I   
think--"   
  
"This isn't about what you think, Peter, it's about what I think. That being   
said, I know you're not as much of a tough guy as you let on. Watch him,   
you used to be his teacher like you said. I'm not just talking about a typical   
adjustment back to work from an injury. I think there is something more   
going on and I think he needs someone to look after him. I decided to do that   
job, but if you think you know him so well, then you do it. Then, after   
observing his difficulties, I want you to reconsider what I just said, and I'll   
gladly accept your apology for questioning me."   
  
Romano sat back down and was ready to dismiss Benton. He felt somewhat   
less gleeful about dressing the surgeon down when he saw his expression of   
sad realization. Peter Benton looked like someone just told him that his wife   
was cheating on him and the whole town knew about but him. Romano   
clasped his hands in front of him and looked up at Peter when he muttered   
something.   
  
"His last MRI looked fine." Peter said now unconvinced.   
  
"Don't be so glum, Peter, life has a way of sweeping us away sometimes."   
Before he could add anything else, a staff member burst into the room.   
  
"Sir, we have a fire on the 5th floor!"   
  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx   
  
  
After he had said "three," Carter had raced towards the source of the fire,   
with the help of the tech. He was favoring his left side, but the two managed   
to sprint a good ways down the hall. As the two neared the destroyed supply   
closet, Carter heard a tremendous crackling sound, and looked up to see the   
ceiling cave in around him, sending debris and part of the air conditioning   
unit crashing on top of them.   
  
Carter fell to the floor and covered his head. After a few seconds, he looked   
up to see that the fire was raging above him, burning all the structural   
supports that held the metal piece of equipment in place. He peered over to   
see, in horror that the air conditioning unit and several beams had landed on   
Taylor, who was too terrified to scream. The bulky unit was on top of the   
tech's legs, and hips. The tech seemed to be pinned by the weight and Carter   
crawled over to the man's side.   
  
"Hey, can you hear me?" Carter rasped. The smoke was really thick, and the   
fumes were making Carter gag.   
  
"Help me!" Taylor screamed.   
  
Carter remained crouched by the man's side, trying to avoid the flames that   
were overhead and spilling out of the door. It would only be a matter of   
moments before the fire overtook the entire hall, as it continued to rage in   
the empty space between the ceiling tiles and the next floor. Carter couldn't   
keep his eyes open, they burned from the intense chemical fumes, and he   
knew that if he remained he would simply be overcome by it all and he   
wouldn't be any help. Maybe he could find someone to help him move the   
bulky unit that had pinned the tech to the floor.   
  
Thinking quickly, Carter took off his shirt and balled it up. He put it in   
Taylor's left hand and instructed him with what little voice he had left. "Put   
this shirt against you mouth and breathe through it."   
  
"Please..." Taylor was consumed by a coughing fit. "Please don't leave me!"   
he cried out in desperation. The tech suspected that the doctor felt incapable   
of helping him and was going to leave him behind.   
  
Carter felt horrible upon hearing such fear, and he knew that he needed to try   
to help the man. He used his hands to feel where the unit had landed, and   
used all his strength to push the unit off. He didn't want to further injure the   
tech, but Carter felt that he didn't have a choice. He felt the metal structure   
move ever so slightly, but it was too heavy and Taylor began to moan with   
every inch it moved. Carter knew that Taylor was suffering from burns and   
each second that the metal unit remained on him would make them worse.   
  
"I know...you hurt, but...try to roll with the movement...it's the only way!"   
Carter gasped, as his lungs screamed at him from gulping toxic air. He used   
his body to push against the air conditioner, the hot metal burning his hands   
and the skin on his side where he removed his shirt. Taylor moved and   
Carter screamed from the exertion and the pain from the heated unit, but the   
machine began to slide off. Taylor rolled with the momentum and Carter   
blindly grabbed at the man. He got a hold on his shirt and pulled him into a   
sitting position.   
  
"Let's go!" Carter rasped.   
  
Carter painfully crawled towards the door with Taylor directly in front of   
him. Each movement sent sharp pains through Carter's back and his head   
pounded furiously. The tech was in obvious pain, as he was barely able to   
crawl through the door, but both of them felt the stairs beneath their hands,   
and stumbled down the flight of stairs, landing in a pile at the bottom.   
Carter's vision was blurry and the stairwell was spinning in front of him. He   
may have been slightly blinded, but at least the smoke didn't seem to follow   
them into their temporary area of safety.   
  
He could hear the heat from the fire as it consumed the wing of the fifth   
floor that the two men just escaped from. Taylor had not said a word, and   
Carter feared that the man was seriously injured. There wasn't time to   
examine him and Carter knew he was physically unable to carry him the rest   
of the way to safety. After a brief moments rest, Carter realized that their   
situation was volatile. The fire was searching for more sources of fuel,   
which was oxygen and flammable material. Before he got up his, wayward   
friend decided to add something to Carter's worries.   
  
"S-s-sounds like the air conditioning is working. Great huh?"   
  
Carter bowed his head for a second as he heard the circulation of air beneath   
the roar of the fire. The implications didn't bode well, as the fire would start   
to seek the air out through the vents throughout the hospital. He grabbed his   
friend's hand and dragged him forward.   
  
"We...have... to keep going." Carter hoped that his luck would change and   
by some miracle of God that someone would come and help them.  
  
  
  
Robert Romano bolted through his office door with Peter Benton hot on his   
heels. He was immediately greeted by a mass of doctors, nurses, and techs   
with various anxious expressions, awaiting guidance from him. Romano had   
no clue what was transpiring, but he knew he had to get some answers   
quickly.   
  
"You!" Romano pointed at the tech that had barged in on his conversation   
with Peter. "What the hell is going on?" Romano commanded, causing all   
the murmuring from the assembled staff to cease.   
  
The young looking tech looked petrified and gazed over at Sally, who took   
his cue and quickly explained things to the angry administrator.   
  
"Sir, we just received word from some of the fourth floor staff that the fifth   
floor is on fire. We need to know how you want us to evacuate the building,"   
Sally said in the calmest voice she could muster.   
  
"Do we know how large it is?" Romano asked while scanning the group of   
people in front of him. None of the staff answered, and Romano was   
becoming irritable. "Why isn't there an alarm going off, people?"   
  
"Sir, I just came back from outside, and you can see flames coming through   
the windows; it looks like the whole floor is on fire," a maintenance man   
with scraggly hair informed him, unable to keep the panic from his voice.   
"The alarm system doesn't seem to be working," he added.   
  
"All right folks, let's evacuate each floor and start moving patients like you   
were trained to do." Romano began to wave his hands to indicate that the   
staff needed to get moving. As the doctors moved down the halls, Romano   
grabbed Sally's shoulder for a moment.   
  
"When did the fire station say that trucks would arrive, and where the hell is   
Dr. Logan?" Romano moved aside as Luka brushed pass him, in hand a   
clipboard with what appeared to be a list of patients who were currently in   
the hospital.   
  
"We called 911, and they told us that there would be a delay because of the   
protesters downtown. There's a traffic jam, they weren't sure how long it will   
take them to get here," she informed him. "We think Dr. Logan went to   
lunch, we haven't seen him in a while," she said disdainfully.   
  
"Okay, how do we know that the staff of the fourth and fifth floor have been   
accounted for?" Romano asked the nurse.   
  
"Craig Wright is head of Neurology on the fifth floor and was leaving when   
he heard the explosion from the other wing. He told me there were no   
patients up there and he had sent the other neurologist and the technician to   
lunch, there wasn't any other staff," Sally explained.   
  
"That's the fifth, what about Radiology?" Romano asked.   
  
"I'm not sure. Dr. Remoss is running that department, and he had two techs   
to help him. I did see him just a minute ago helping move some of the   
patients from the third floor," Sally went on, but her voice conveyed that she   
wasn't certain about the information.   
  
"I'll talk to him when everyone is moved. I don't want to miss anybody   
because people were sloppy," Romano growled.   
  
Luka ran over to Romano with Peter, who had darted off when the Chief had   
told them to evacuate the floors. The Croatian doctor did not looked pleased,   
and Benton appeared more irritated then Romano had ever seen him. Both   
began to speak and he put his hand in the air. "One at a time, folks."   
  
Luka spoke first, his finger tracing the names on the chart. "We're in the   
midst of transferring most of the patients. There are currently only six here   
because the more critical cases were re- directed to other hospitals, and none   
of them are in serious condition. One surgical case was on the second floor   
and he is being helped down since the elevators are broken. Most of the staff   
on the third floor is accounted for, but we are still missing a few people from   
the fourth and fifth floors. We need to verify who's here and account for the   
missing staff."   
  
"Okay, Peter, what have you got for me?" Romano turned to the other doctor   
as they continued to make their way towards the entrance of the hospital.   
"I've tried pulling and activating every alarm and emergency device, but it   
looks like they aren't operating. The sprinklers aren't going off," Peter told   
him with growing impatience.   
  
All three doctors walked quickly outside, finding the rest of the staff waiting   
in shock. The six patients, in various states of dress, were huddled on the   
grass while the nurses attended to their needs. Romano stared at the hospital,   
seeing white and black smoke rising from the top two floors. The flames   
were raging outside the windows and heading to the top of the building.   
From his stance, it was hard to tell where else the fire was spreading.   
  
"Okay, we need to make sure that everyone is a safe distance from the   
building, and we need to have some kind of roll check." Romano was pacing   
up and down the grass beside the parking lot, as most of the staff retreated.   
A red-haired nurse approached him.   
  
"I grabbed the time sheet with all the staff who came on today. I'll go around   
to verify that everyone is accounted for if you make sure the doctor who has   
the list of patients can account for all of them," Linda told him, and left   
without waiting for his approval.   
  
"A person with competence, well that's good," Romano remarked under his   
breath. He walked over to where Luka and Peter were watching over the   
patients. Peter was scanning the area as if distracted, while an older lady was   
complaining about the quality of her care.   
  
"Dr. Romano, I have accounted for everyone except for a Mrs. Judith Cobb,"   
Luka explained, concern evident in his voice. "Dr. Remoss informed me that   
he had gone to review some films when the fire broke out. He told the two   
techs to transfer Mrs. Cobb while he made sure that the rest of the floor was   
clear, however, those technicians are here, but we can't locate the patient."   
  
Peter snatched the chart out of Luka's hands and stared at the form. "That   
was Carter's patient, and I haven't seen him anywhere," the surgeon said as   
he frantically scanned the crowd for Carter's face.   
  
"Dr. Logan is nowhere to be found, as well as Taylor Evans, a neurological   
technician." Linda walked over with her own chart. She didn't look at the   
other doctors, but appeared to be absorbed in the growing fire that raged in   
front of them.   
  
Romano took a deep breath and searched the crowd for himself, locking eyes   
with Peter. "He could be helping out somewhere, Peter, no need to get too   
concerned," Romano told the surgeon without much confidence.   
  
"Oh, no!" Luka gasped.   
  
Peter turned his head in Luka's direction, and Romano stepped closer to the   
resident.   
  
"What's going on, Dr. Kovac?" Romano snapped.   
  
"I remember, Carter was heading to the fifth floor to look for something, I   
haven't seen him since," Luka replied worriedly. He cast his gaze over to the   
hospital, his face betraying his obvious anxiety.   
  
"So, Dr. Carter was upstairs before the fire. There's a chance that he's still   
there or he could have left before it started," Romano said, trying to calm his   
two companions.   
  
"No, this is Carter we're talking about." Peter said flatly and began to walk   
in the direction of the hospital.   
  
Romano grabbed the surgeon's arm roughly. "Where the hell are you going,   
Peter?" he asked gruffly, already sensing his response.   
  
"Let go of me, Dr. Romano, I'm going in there to see if I can find Carter."   
Peter's tone was unmistakable; he wasn't waiting for consent.   
  
"Are you insane, Peter?" Romano exclaimed.   
  
"He's right, Dr. Benton, you can't go in there. You won't be able to find him,   
you'll probably get trapped in there yourself." Luka tried to reason with the   
agitated surgeon.   
  
"Look, I'm going in there. Do you hear any sirens? I don't! Dr. Romano, you   
told me to look after him, well now I'm going to make sure he's not in any   
trouble," Peter notified them in no uncertain terms.   
  
Romano and Luka tried to block Peter's path, but he pushed past them   
forcibly. He was not going to let them deter his course of action. Luka was   
really getting on his nerves, and he tried to break away from the hold the   
other doctor had on his shoulder. He spun around and stared at Luka   
intently. "I am not waiting to see if this place burns down while help is   
nowhere to be found. I don't know anything about you, Dr. Kovac, but I can   
assume that you've been in one of these situations before."   
  
Peter never broke eye contact with Luka. He could see the other doctor   
struggle with some inner conflict, and watched Luka stare at the fire with   
horror and sadness. He stared back at him with a haunted expression, and to   
the shock of Romano, let Peter go. Peter nodded, and ran towards the   
hospital while Luka kept Romano from interfering.   
  
Luka watched Peter re-enter the hospital, and he could sense Romano's   
furious state from behind. Luka turned around to face him.   
  
"You'll regret that, Dr. Kovac," Romano said firmly, but stormed past him   
when he saw Dr. Logan running to where the group of people was standing.   
  
Luka stared at the hospital and its slow destruction, hoping he made the   
correct choice.   
  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx   
  
Carter struggled to keep Taylor upright. The tech was having a difficult time   
moving, and was leaning almost all of his weight on the young doctor.   
Carter was using the wall for guidance since his vision continued to bother   
him. He was suffering from severe vertigo, but he pressed onward, away   
from the roaring flames above them. Carter draped his arm over Taylor's   
shoulder, but he was losing his balance while fighting to keep himself going.   
His left leg was dragging on the floor, affected by the additional weight of   
his charge. His back was practically seizing, sending shooting pains through   
his body. He ignored it all, carrying on still, knowing full well that if they   
stopped then they wouldn't make it out.   
  
Carter stumbled down the next flight of stairs, counting silently to himself.   
They should be on the third flight, only a few more, a voice whispered in his   
ears. Taylor was really slowing them down, but Carter told himself he would   
get both of them out. The tech was whimpering with each step; Carter knew   
his leg and pelvis were most likely broken, but it was better then being dead.   
As he felt the wall, anticipating the next turn, he thought he heard footsteps   
running towards them. Not trusting his hearing, Carter continued down the   
stairs until he stopped in his tracks, recognizing a loud voice.   
  
"Carter!" Peter shouted at the sight of the doctor and another man coming   
down the stairs. The surgeon had sprinted up each floor and checking each   
level for the young doctor. When he started up the second flight, he had   
heard something that sounded like people coming down the stairs.   
  
Peter took two steps at a time and grabbed the man who was struggling to   
hang on to Carter. He seized the guy's arm and draped it over his shoulder as   
he watched Carter nearly collapse to the floor when his burden was lifted.   
  
Carter slid to his knees, trying to control his breathing, which had become   
increasingly ragged over the past few minutes. After a coughing fit, he   
looked up at Peter. "Thanks," he said, out of breath.   
  
Peter looked on with concern at the sight of his former student. He was   
shirtless, for one, and sweating profusely. His face was flushed and he   
appeared to stare past him. "Carter, man, you all right?" Peter asked, worried   
by Carter's appearance.   
  
"Yeah, never better. That's Taylor, he needs to be moved out of here right   
away. An air conditioning unit landed on him and I think he has a couple of   
leg fractures, a possible broken pelvis, and some minor burns," Carter   
answered while using the wall to stand up again. He peered at Benton, who   
appeared to be spinning around. Carter wiped his eyes to try to clear his   
vision. It didn't help. He started to walk towards him, his balance slightly   
off. "I think we need to get going," he said, ignoring what was probably   
concern radiating from his former teacher. "Can you carry him the rest of the   
way?" Carter asked, trying to act nonchalant about the request.   
  
"Sure, but let's see if we can find something to make a splint with. I don't   
want to further injure this man if I can," Peter proclaimed, carefully lowering   
the tech to the ground, who had remained silent the entire time.   
  
"I didn't want to move him, but we didn't have much of a choice," Carter   
told the other doctor.   
  
"Hey, I know you wouldn't move him unless it was absolutely necessary,   
Carter," Peter replied while he quickly examined Taylor.   
  
"Okay, I'll look for something to make a splint; I know that we don't have   
much time. I'll be right back." Peter paused after giving the young doctor a   
meaningful look. "Are you sure you're all right? Your side looks like it has a   
pretty good sized burn."   
  
"It's from pushing on the air conditioner and its minor, other then that I'm   
fine," Carter told Peter, giving him an encouraging smile.   
  
"When we get outside you should be examined, you're not supposed to be   
doing anything strenuous," Peter reminded him.   
  
"Not much of a choice there," Carter said glumly.   
  
Peter shook his head, and raced down a flight of stairs and onto the second   
floor. He went to a storage self and quickly searched until he came across a   
splint. He really wanted a backboard and a neck collar, but knew such   
luxuries were not available and he would have a tough time pulling the   
injured man by himself. Carter simply didn't look like he was in shape to   
help out in that area.   
  
Carter waited for Peter to return, fearful of the ever-growing fire on the floor   
above them. He put a hand to his chest as he tried to subdue another   
coughing fit. He was lying to Peter about how he felt, but he didn't need him   
to worry, not when another person was in a more serious condition and   
required immediate care.   
  
He was shaken from his reprieve when he heard Peter return. He watched   
him splint up Taylor's leg. When he was done, Peter signaled Carter that it   
was time to get moving.   
  
Peter waited for Carter to walk beside him, and the entourage continued to   
descend the stairs. Peter wished that someone had come with him, he was   
concerned about Carter, but Taylor was more in need of urgent treatment.   
  
Carter never took his hand off the wall, letting it support and pilot him down   
the stairwell. He was relieved that Peter had come, and wondered if he was   
actually searching for him, or if there were other patients who were missing.   
  
"Is the whole hospital evacuated?" Carter asked.   
  
"Yeah," Peter responded distractedly, trying to concentrate on getting down   
the stairs. Taylor was now totally unresponsive and Benton was practically   
dragging him.   
  
"Everyone accounted for?" Carter questioned the older doctor.   
  
Not really thinking, Peter answered, "We're still missing someone, but the   
others probably found her outside."   
  
Carter stopped when he thought that he knew whom Peter was referring to.   
"Was Mrs. Cobb downstairs, Dr. Benton?" Carter asked, worried that the   
elderly patient might still be in radiology.   
  
Peter didn't want to waste any more time, so he chose to ignore Carter's   
question. He was about to go down the final flight when he realized that   
Carter was no longer beside him. Irritated, he yelled up the stairs, "Carter,   
stop screwing around and get down here!"   
  
"Mrs. Cobb wasn't down there, was she?" Carter repeated from a few steps   
above the surgeon. Seeing that Peter wasn't going to answer him, he turned   
around and starting hobbling back up the stairs. He decided to tell Peter what   
he was planning on doing. "Get Taylor to safety, I'm going to get Mrs.   
Cobb!" Carter yelled over his shoulder.   
  
Peter was stunned, but he couldn't move to go after Carter, who was now out   
of sight. "Carter, get your ass back down here!" Carter!" he shouted. It was   
no use, the other doctor had managed to climb the next flight of stairs, and   
he left Peter no other choice but to carry Taylor outside without him.   
  
The technician moved a little and whispered in Peter's ear, "He's nuts to go   
back up there, but he saved my life."   
  
Peter reached the door to the lobby, the entrance to the hospital was only a   
few hundred feet away. "Yeah, but who's going to help the him?"  
  
  
  
Carter struggled back up the stairs, stopping every few seconds to catch his   
breath. He was mentally going over the reasons why he shouldn't be racing   
back towards a raging inferno: he could not see, the hallway was spinning,   
and his lungs were in constant competition with his back over how much   
pain could be exerted. With every medical reason he came up with for not   
limping back, there was the one screaming in his head. He would not leave   
knowing there was a chance that Mrs. Cobb was on the fourth floor,   
forgotten because nobody cared or were too busy to notice her.   
  
Carter could tell by the increased temperature that the fire was spreading,   
and smoke was filling the stairwell. 'How did it spread this fast when we   
were just up here?' he asked himself. Carter made it to the door leading to   
the fourth floor and saw smoke pouring from underneath it. He placed his   
hand on it to feel for heat. The door was warm, but it didn't seem hot enough   
to indicate that the fire was right behind it.   
  
Carter cursed when it dawned on him that he had nothing to filter his   
breathing through when he was going to enter a hallway filled with dense   
smoke. Knowing he didn't have a choice Carter opened the door and ran in   
as fast as his condition would allow. He remembered to stay low, which was   
nearly impossible because it hurt so much to bend over. Carter knew that if   
he attempted crawling on the floor, chances were he wouldn't be able to get   
back up.   
  
As he entered the horribly long hallway he saw that the smoke billowing out   
the air conditioning vents. Considering how fast it was spreading, Carter   
raced down the hall on the opposite end.   
  
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx   
  
Luka paced up and down the grass, watching for any sign of his co- workers.   
The feeling of helplessness was something that he would never get used it,   
he despised it. He never stood by before when there was danger or when   
someone was in need of help, just because he was in another country didn't   
mean he had changed his convictions. He scanned the lawn to see if there   
was anything he could use if he went back for his friends. He locked eyes   
with Romano, who was waving his hand in his direction. Luka reluctantly   
walked over, seeing Dr. Logan screaming at Romano.   
  
"What the hell is going on here, Romano?!" Logan was shaking with rage   
and wildly gesturing with is hands. "I leave to go to lunch and when I return   
I see that my hospital is on fire! What the hell did you do? I'll have you on   
report for your incompetence you son of---"   
  
Luka was appalled at Dr. Logan's lack of concern for his patients, and   
interrupted the man in anger. "There is a missing patient up there, Dr.   
Logan. Two of our doctors are up there right now trying to locate her, and   
there is also a missing technician. If I were you, I would show them a little   
concern!" Luka yelled at the administrator.   
  
Dr. Logan spun around into the face of the foreign doctor, own his face red   
and full of fury. "Shut up you little..."   
  
"Be quiet, both of you!" Romano shouted. "Dr. Kovac, keep your opinions   
to yourself." Romano turned back to face Dr. Logan. "And you, Chuck, don't   
ever talk to one of my doctors like that again!" Romano growled.   
  
"It's Dr. Logan; I never gave you permission to use my first name. Why   
were so many people left up there, did you not follow the evacuation plan?"   
Logan asked, his voice full of contempt.   
  
"Wipe the spit of your chin, Logan, it's so unbecoming. Dr. Carter was   
unaccounted for and was last spotted on the fifth floor. Dr. Benton went after   
him, the missing patient, and the Grady employee. All the other staff and   
patients are safe, just in case you were concerned for them," Romano added,   
his sarcasm evident.   
  
Logan rubbed his chin and stared at the ablaze building. "I expect a complete   
report in triplicate, Dr. Romano. I want to be informed when you locate all   
that are missing. I don't want you covering anything up, since one of you   
employees seems to be involved in all of this," Logan spat.   
  
"What are you talking about?" Luka exclaimed, still enraged that the man   
had no concern for anyone's safety.   
  
Romano glared at Luka and smiled coolly at Logan. "The only way my   
employees were involved in this were as victims of a faulty security system   
that could not be activated when the fire broke out." Romano stepped closer   
to Logan, staring up at Chief's face.   
  
"If anyone is hurt because of your negligence, I'll have your head on a   
platter, Dr. Logan," Romano told him calmly.   
  
"If one of yours caused any of this, I'll make sure they never practice again.   
I'll see what's taking the fire units so long," Logan replied, and walked away.   
  
Romano was about to grab the other man's sleeve when he heard Luka   
shouting his name.   
  
"Dr. Romano, some people are coming out of the building!" Luka   
announced, and then ran to meet those returning from the fire.   
  
Romano sprinted to the parking lot to help Luka. Peter Benton was carrying   
someone while barking orders.   
  
"I've got a male in his twenties, with a possible broken pelvis, fractured leg,   
and burns. He's been semi-conscious and suffering from smoke inhalation. I   
need a backboard and oxygen!" Peter shouted to the other assembling   
doctors.   
  
Romano pulled the surgeon aside as several other doctors came to help the   
injured tech. "Peter, are you all right?" Romano asked the agitated surgeon,   
placing his hand on Benton's shoulder.   
  
"I'm fine, I have to go back for Carter," he said tersely, twisting out of   
Romano's grasp.   
  
"What? Where is Dr. Carter?" Romano was confused. Luka ran over to the   
duo, as it appeared that Dr. Logan himself was overseeing the technician's   
care.   
  
Peter was irritated, and didn't have time to explain. "I found him, but he   
went back up to Radiology to go after the patient he was treating. Now let go   
of me, he's going to need some help."   
  
"I'll go with you," Luka said.   
  
Peter didn't have time to argue and simply nodded. "Let's go, we need to   
hurry!"   
  
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX  
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX   
  
Running was something Carter's body wasn't going to tolerate for long,   
despite how much he willed it to ignore the strain. He doubled over from the   
pain and leaned against the wall. Panting for breath from the exertion, Carter   
put his forehead to the wall. He would not let his pain defeat him; instead   
used the agony and re-directed it and screamed Mrs. Cobb's name.   
  
"Judith!" he shouted. "Judith, it's Dr. Carter!"   
  
Carter used the hallway wall for guidance and he moved forward, hoping he   
was heading in the right direction. He called out again, never taking his hand   
off the wall, he feared if he moved away he would become helplessly lost as   
effect of the vertigo. He opened each door he came across in hope that he   
would find the elderly woman. As he reached one of the last doors, he heard   
a small voice a few yards away.   
  
"Dr. Carter?"   
  
Carter's mind filled with relief, and he squinted at the person coming out of   
one of the imaging rooms. "Judith, come over here!" Carter yelled, and   
immediately was seized by another coughing fit. He felt a hand on his   
shoulder and glanced up to see Judith's blurry face.   
  
"I-I-I am s-s-so glad to see you. Are you all right?" Judith asked in a   
quivering voice. She was shocked to see her calm, professional physician   
with his suspenders hanging down the sides of his pants, no longer in   
possession of his shirt. She diverted her eyes to the recent scars that marred   
his chest, and a large size burn mark on his side. The strangest part was the   
fact that his bloodshot eyes were not even focusing on her.   
  
"I'm fine," Carter rasped. "I'm having a hard time seeing, Judith, so I need   
you to guide me a little. Can you do that?" Carter asked in a hoarse voice.   
  
"Dear God, young m-m-man! You look t-t-terrible. Where's your shirt?" The   
woman asked, as if he were a young child who left his coat outside.   
  
Carter stifled a laugh despite their dire situation. "It's a long story, Judith.   
Come on, let's go back to the stairs." Carter stayed beside the wall and the   
elderly woman held Carter's hand, leading the way. The duo made   
dreadfully slow progress, as Judith could not walk very fast and Carter was   
stumbling around like a drunk.   
  
"Why can't you walk straight, Dr. Carter?" Judith was struck by such odd   
behavior.   
  
"I think it's because of some of the chemicals I breathed in, there's nothing to   
worry about," Carter tried to reassure her. Carter decided he needed to keep   
her mind off his health, and asked her a question in return.   
  
"Why were you in the imaging room?" he asked.   
  
"I-I-I heard the explosion and t-t-the tech guy left to c-c-check it out. He   
never came back. After a while, smoke was filling in from the air vents and   
w-w-when I went out to the h-h-hallway I saw the fire coming though the   
vents there," she told him as they inched towards the seemingly distant   
stairway.   
  
"That was in the other wing?" Carter asked, trying to figure out where the   
fire was heading.   
  
"Yes," she replied.   
  
So that meant that they were in the only safe part of the floor, and the fire   
was about to cut them off. The door to the stairwell was right in front of   
them now and as they approached it an explosion erupted, rocking the   
hallway, and Carter instinctively pulled Judith down to the floor covering   
her up. When he didn't feel any overwhelming heat burn his body, he peered   
up into the darkness. The lights no longer worked, and in the distance he   
heard the crashing sounds of the ceiling giving way just a few feet in front of   
them. Judith was shaking in terror so he released his protective grip on her.   
  
Carter stood motionless in disbelief, unable to think where they could run to   
next if the fire blocked their only escape route. How were they going to get   
out now? He wouldn't show Mrs. Cobb how panicked he felt, so he turned   
back to the direction they came.   
  
"We'll just have to find another way," he told her in a confident voice.   
  
"The smoke is getting worse, Dr. Carter." Fear was evident in her voice.   
  
"We'll stay low." Carter used all of his remaining strength, and pulled Judith   
close so he could guide her back down the hallway.   
  
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx   
  
Luka and Peter ran back towards the hospital entrance, ignoring the cursing   
and yelling from their boss. They entered the lobby when Luka stopped.   
  
"We should get some oxygen masks before going up there." Luka ran   
towards one of the supply shelves and grabbed an oxygen tank on wheels.   
He also found two dusk masks and two pair of protective goggles.   
  
Peter moved beside him and began searching along the wall. He located a   
small fire extinguisher and carried it back to the lobby. "We will probably   
encounter some of the fire. If we do, I'll clear a path and you go through. We   
should stay low, we'll find Carter then get the hell out." Peter attached the   
dusk mask and eye protectors over his face and tried to read Luka's   
expression. Peter knew why he was going back into the fire, but why was   
Luka Kovac helping him. Did the other doctor know the risks of entering   
such a dangerous situation? Peter wondered for a brief second if he could   
actually complete the task in front of him and he cursed himself for briefly   
thinking he wouldn't be able to. Benton told himself he wouldn't let Carter   
down again.   
  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx   
  
Carter never took his hand off the wall, continuing to use it as a support   
system. The smoke cloud followed them into the darkness. The emergency   
lights flickered, casting an eerie glow around them, bringing forth images   
reminiscent of horror movies. Judith stayed by Carter's left side, her arm   
wrapped around his as he escorted her.   
  
They passed the imaging room where he had found her; she tugged at his   
arm to keep him from colliding with a gurney.   
  
"Stop a minute!" Carter shouted, and he fumbled with the sheets on the bed.   
He tried to strip them quickly, noting the smoke and Judith's slight coughing.   
He attempted to take shallow breaths, trying to ignore the burning sensation   
in his chest that had worsened since leaving the stairwell. He ripped one of   
the sheets in half, and dizzily glanced about the hallway".   
  
"Do you see a water fountain?" he asked Judith; his vision was useless.   
  
"I know what you're thinking, I'll go do it." Judith took the sheets from   
Carter's hands and hurried over to the water fountain, pouring water over the   
sheets. When they were sufficiently drenched, she carried them back,   
handing one to Carter.   
  
"Now breathe through these, and let's keep going." Carter suppressed   
another cough and the duo continued down the hall.   
  
When they finally reached the end of the hallway, Carter fumbled with the   
doorknob of the last room and opened it. He ushered Judith in and closed the   
door behind them. He could make out the blurry shape of an exam bed, and   
pulled the sheets off it. He took the linen and stuffed it in the cracks of the   
door. There wasn't as much smoke in the room as there had been in the   
hallway, but some of was seeping in from the air vent above the door, but   
neither of them could reach in order to close it.   
  
"There might be a window in here," Carter told the older woman who   
maintained her death-grip with his hand.   
  
"There's one in the corner, Dr. Carter," Judith told him, her voice hopeful.   
  
"Good." Another coughing fit seized Carter, and he leaned over the exam   
bed. When he finally caught his breath, he hobbled over to the window and   
opened it. Fresh air blew in and Carter signaled Judith to come over and   
stand next to him. Carter moved aside, allowing Judith to stand next to him.   
She wrapped her arm around his waist, and he put a supportive hand on her   
shoulder, carefully trying not to put any weight on her. He didn't know how   
much longer he could stay standing; his body was signaling that it had had   
enough strain. The burning sensation in his chest was reaching an almost   
unbearable crescendo, and his head was pounding unmercifully.   
  
"We'll wait here for the firefighters," he whispered to the older woman.   
Carter tried taking in the fresh oxygen, but his lungs seemed to protest the   
effort. The burning feeling in his chest was quickly becoming a sharp pain   
that he was unsuccessfully trying to ignore.   
  
"It s-s-seems to me that you underestimate yourself, Dr. C-c-Carter." Judith   
noticed him become rigid from some sort of pain, so she simply hugged the   
young doctor.   
  
Judith heard his ragged breathing and rubbed her hand up and down his   
back. Her left eye continued to water from her medical condition, but fresh   
tears from her right eye joined. Judith held on to her young protector, who   
had came back for her when the other doctors had simply forgotten. Judith   
tried not to think about the fact that there were no sounds of sirens, and that   
the room was slowly filling with more smoke. It occurred to her that the   
doctor could jump out the window, if it came down to that, with the   
possibility that he might survive. Judith also knew she would never   
withstand the fall with the same confidence that she understood the young   
man would probably never leave her behind, because of the kind of man he   
was. She closed her eyes and buried her head into Carter's side, hoping that   
someone would help them.   
  
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX   
  
"Are you ready for this?" Peter asked as they ran towards the door that lead   
to the stairwell.   
  
"Yeah, it's going to be hot and hard to see when we get in there. Use one of   
your hands to feel for someone on the floor. Stay focused, and don't let   
yourself get disoriented," Luka instructed the surgeon.   
  
"I don't want to now how you know all that," Peter told him. The surgeon   
was about to open the door when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He glanced   
at Luka, a serious and concerned expression on his face.   
  
"We can't stay up there more the a few minutes. We must face the possibility   
they we won't find them." Luka said gravely.   
  
Peter squared his shoulders and lifted the fire extinguisher. "I think we both   
underestimate Carter. We'll find him." Peter opened the door, and both   
doctors headed for the heart of the inferno.   
  
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx   
  
Dr. Rocket Romano stared at the fire, raging out of control. Of all the things   
to have happen to his people, he never imagined a more horrid situation. He   
was annoyed and irritated that he couldn't do anything, so he wandered over   
to the rescued technician. They were waiting for an ambulance, and Romano   
squatted next to the injured man despite Logan's presence.   
  
Taylor looked over at the bald doctor and sensed that he was one of the men   
in charge. "Hey, that doc saved my life. The air conditioning unit landed on   
me, and he stuck around and carried me to safety. I hope he's all right," The   
technician said fearfully.   
  
Romano gave the tech and tried to reassure the tech a sympathetic nod.   
"Don't worry, my guys will be fine. I'm glad that Dr. Carter was able to help   
you. When you get better, I hope you will be able to aid the investigators in   
this matter."   
  
Taylor nodded his affirmatively, and Logan put his oxygen mask back on.   
He looked up at Romano and told him, "Why don't you keep an eye out for   
your people." Dr. Logan watched the visiting chief walk away and turned his   
attention back on his employee. He stared at the frightened man and   
whispered in his ear.   
  
"Don't you mention a word about what happened, you understand? We had a   
deal and you had better keep your mouth shut. Things didn't go off as   
planned, but the end result is what's important," Dr. Logan uttered   
menacingly, staying near the tech to reassure his safe distance from Dr.   
Romano.   
  
  
  
Peter ran up the first three flights of stairs as fast as his legs would carry   
him. He kept the fire extinguisher hose in front of him, and tensed his grip   
on it when he saw smoke filtering into the hallway.. He checked to see if   
Luka was still following; the other doctor was, pulling the oxygen tank   
behind him. Peter knew that it might come in handy, but thought it hauling it   
up the stairs would slow them down when time was so precious. As the duo   
neared the door to the fourth floor, the clouds of smoke became increasingly   
dense. It was hard to distinguish where the doorframe was, and Peter moved   
to put his hand on the door handle.   
  
"Don't!" Luka said through his dust mask.   
  
Peter whipped his head around, leaving his hand on the door handle. "What's   
the matter Kovac? We need to hurry!" Benton growled.   
  
"No, check the door for heat. If it is very hot then we can't open it because of   
the possibility of a back draft," Luka told the surgeon tersely.   
  
Seeing Peter's hesitation, Luka stepped in front of him and placed his hand   
on the door. Noting that it wasn't hot, he pulled his hand away and glanced   
over at the surgeon. "It seems fine. We need to go in quickly. Oh, and unlike   
the movies, you can't see through a fire, so we should stay near the wall."   
  
Peter was annoyed at Luka's intent to take charge, but he didn't question   
him. If placating the man would shut him up, then Peter would humor him.   
He nodded so they could get going. Entering the hallway was like entering a   
dense fog filled with air born dust and dirt. Even breathing shallowly with   
the dust mask was a trying chore. The smoke was a harsh substance,   
something that did not have a place in the human body. It was an intruder, a   
thousand foreign particles that suffocated one's lungs and irritated a person's   
throat.   
  
Peter found the wall and kept the side of his body against it. His mask   
helped a little and the goggles kept his eyes from burning, but he couldn't   
see a thing. It was like being in a dense rain cloud of ash, and Peter Benton   
grew even more anxious.   
  
"Carter! Carter! Where are you man?" Peter yelled. The surgeon wasn't sure   
if they were even going in the right direction, but he was going to check   
every room to make certain. Peter could see an orange haze several feet   
away where the smoke was billowing even more. Knowing that Carter   
always had a way of finding trouble, Peter wondered if the he had managed   
to steer clear]of the mess ahead.   
  
Luka tried to calm down, his breathing was erratic from the adrenaline   
pumping in his veins. The smell of burning wood and the electrical charge in   
the air brought back horrible memories. Luka pushed those dormant feelings   
aside and concentrated on his instincts. If Carter were alive, he would need   
to be the furthest from the fire and the thick haze. Peter had nearly pushed   
him out of the way when they entered the hallway, letting his emotions get   
the better of him. With each door the surgeon got to, he felt for heat, then   
opened it in search of his former student.   
  
"We don't have time for this, we need to go to the end of the hall!" Luka   
yelled at the surgeon ahead of him. He went over to Peter and grabbed the   
man's sleeve, pulling him forward while dragging the oxygen tank with left   
hand.   
  
"Get off me, Kovac! There's something ahead of us." Peter was getting tired   
of people grabbing at him every time they wanted his attention, even if it   
was an emergency.   
  
Luka approached cautiously, an area of the hallway in front of them was on   
fire. It was only a few feet from the stairwell and was effectively blocking   
their path; it could have prevented Carter and his patient from reaching their   
exit. Luka had peered down the right hall only to see fire erupting from the   
vents and ceiling. The blaze was spreading towards the wing they were in   
now, leaving only the undamaged hall they were presently in untouched for   
the time being. Directly in front of them, it was visible through the smoke   
that part of the ceiling had collapsed and the material was on fire. Luka   
looked up to see the huge hole in the ceiling where it had given in, fire   
raging above, sucking in the air in between floors. The fire in front acted as a   
barrier to the other end of the hallway, which still seemed clear of the   
flames.   
  
"We need to go through this!" Luka yelled at the other doctor, who remained   
further back from the flames that danced in front of them. The heat in the   
hallway was reaching an unbearable level. Luka wiped away the sweat   
dripping down his face. He bit his lip, and motioned Peter to come closer.   
  
"Spray this area down and I'll run through it. I'll go to the other end and see   
if I can find him." Luka told him.   
  
Benton stood next to Luka, wary of the fire, flinching every once in a while   
when one of the flames lurched forward. "How do you know he's down   
there?" he asked, unconvinced.   
  
"If he's not down the hall, then he's already perished. The other wing is in   
flames and we haven't come across him on the floor yet. Now, come on,"   
Luka rasped, his throat was beginning to get sore from the fumes despite the   
mask.   
  
"No, we'll go together. I'm not staying behind here only to have to find you   
later on. I'm not arguing with you, Kovac." With that, Peter dosed the small   
fire in front of them with foam. The flames began to disappear and Peter   
sprayed the source of the fire, as well as the ceiling tiles and debris that lay   
in a pile.   
  
When the flames died away, Luka ran through it, pulling the oxygen tank   
behind him. Peter turned around and continued to shower the foam as he   
passed through the debris, bumping into the Croatian doctor as he kicked   
some of the ceiling tiles out of his way. The two doctors went over to the   
wall; Peter kept his hands out, trying to feel for the structure. His hand   
brushed against the wall and used it as a guide through the unlit hallway. He   
called out again, his voice growing hoarse from yelling.   
  
"Carter! Carter, where the hell are you? Get your ass out here, Carter!" Peter   
was starting to feel panicked. He couldn't see more then a few inches in front   
of him and the longer they remained, the higher the probability that they   
would all become trapped. The heat was getting to him, and feared that he   
wouldn't be able to find the younger doctor. Which way was he supposed to   
go? How many rooms were there to be checked?   
  
Luka started to cough from the smoke, and placed the mask over his nose   
and breathed in fresh oxygen. They only had another minute or two   
remaining and he knew the importance of staying oriented. Luka heard a   
crackling noise and saw flames leaping out of the hole from the ceiling they   
had just passed. Instead of feeling overwhelming fear, Luka was angry that   
nature was conspiring against them.   
  
"Carter!" he called out. Luka continued down the hall, Peter right behind   
him calling the younger doctor's name.   
  
Luka started pounding on the hallway wall, trying to get the attention of   
anyone who may be trapped within the rooms. There was not enough time to   
investigate each room, as Peter wanted to do. The foreign doctor fought off   
the idea of how hopeless it was to pound away at walls made of fire resistant   
concrete, but maybe making noise would alert his co-worker that someone   
had come to search for him. If Carter were still alive, he would have gone to   
some part of the hospital that was the greatest distance from the fire. He   
would not have picked a room at random, and Luka's gut told him that they   
needed to go to the end of the hall.   
  
The duo hurried through the cloud of smoke. Luka used his feet to nudge the   
empty floor, just in case his foot made contact with an unconscious body on   
the floor. He pulled the oxygen tank behind him, veering it in a zigzag   
motion to cover more ground just in case it bumped into someone who   
wasn't in Luka's direct path. Desperation was overwhelming Luka's   
thoughts, and he could not keep himself from calling out John's name.   
  
"Carter!" Luka shouted into the void that was once a busy hallway.   
  
Peter put his hand on Luka's shoulder to hush him when he thought he heard   
a faint sound. He couldn't see the other doctor's expression, but they stood   
motionless. Each doctor held their breath in the hopes of catching another   
noise. Peter lowered his head trying to distinguish the source of the clamor.   
After a moment, he recognized a faint voice calling for help.   
  
"Down here!" Peter yelled, racing towards a door at the end of the hallway.   
He didn't even bother placing his hand on the door, but busted through as he   
barreled into the room. He scanned the room, seeing two figures leaning out   
a window. Peter ran towards the window finding a very shaken woman   
coughing while holding onto Carter.   
  
"Bring that damn oxygen tank, Kovac!" Peter barked at the other doctor.   
  
Luka wheeled the tank over to the window. The elderly lady had a death grip   
on Carter, who was slouched over the windowsill. "Please let go of Dr.   
Carter so we can help the both of you out," Luka tried to tell the frightened   
woman.   
  
Reluctantly, Judith let Carter out of her embrace and moved aside as Peter   
went over to the younger doctor. Carter was slumped over on the windowsill   
his hands dangling outside. Peter quickly grabbed a hold of the doctor who   
had started to slide down as soon as Judith had released her hold of him.   
Peter held Carter up and struggled to lower him to the floor. As he crouched   
down to quickly examine him, his eyes fluttered open. Carter struggled to   
get up for a second, but fell back down holding on to his chest when he   
could not catch his breath.   
  
"Easy, Carter, we're going to get you out. Hand me that oxygen mask, Dr.   
Kovac," Peter ordered while he checked Carter's pulse.   
  
"Just a second, I'm giving some to Mrs. Cobb," Luka responded.   
  
Peter glanced over to see Luka administering oxygen to the elderly woman   
who was staring at both doctors, oblivious to Luka's ministrations. Peter   
frowned when he felt Carter's heart rate racing at 125. The younger man was   
seized by another coughing fit, and Peter glared at Luka.   
  
"He needs that oxygen, now Dr. Kovac, he's tachycardic." Peter snatched the   
oxygen mask without a word as soon as Luka handed to him. He placed the   
mask on Carter, who tried to breathe in deeply.   
  
Luka watched Peter administer oxygen to Carter as he quickly examined   
Mrs. Cobb. "Are you suffering from any injuries, Mrs. Cobb?" Luka asked   
her with concern.   
  
"I'm fine. I-I-It's hard to breathe from time to time. Dr.Carter, are you all   
right, young man?" she asked him.   
  
Luka watched Carter nod affirmatively, and he reached out to take a hold of   
the older woman's hand. She slipped hers into his grasp and gave it a little   
squeeze.   
  
Luka glanced around the room, trying to formulate a plan for getting out. He   
looked back from Carter to Mrs. Cobb. He turned to face the woman. "Do   
you now if Dr. Carter is injured in any way, Mrs. Cobb?"   
  
Peter looked up at Luka's question and listened intently to the elderly   
woman's answer. Carter shook his head in annoyance. He lifted the mask   
slightly to talk. "I can speak for myself, Dr. Kovac. Where are we? What's   
going on?" Carter let out another cough that was soon transformed into   
wheezing.   
  
Peter placed the oxygen mask back on the younger man. The surgeon locked   
eyes with Luka; both worried about Carter's strange remarks.   
  
"He c-c-couldn't walk straight and a few minutes b-b-efore you got here his   
chest was hurting." Judith wiped away more tears from her face.   
  
"We need to get out of here, Peter, or no one is going to get any help." Luka   
warned him. Luka walked back to the door and peered into the hallway. The   
smoke was so dense that it now blocked the emergency lighting. He could   
see the fire spreading over the ceiling towards them; it was only a matter of   
time before the roof collapsed.   
  
Peter got up and lifted Carter to his feet. The younger doctor swayed and   
Peter put Carter's arm around his neck. There was no way that Carter would   
make it out of the building quick enough, despite his aid. Peter decided the   
only was to carry the man, but he wasn't sure how he could do it. Carter was   
a good six feet-two inches tall. He knew the younger man was lean, and had   
still not gain back all the weigh he lost as result of his past injuries. This still   
didn't mean that he could carry him through the hall and down several flights   
of stairs without some difficulty. Peter knew he worked out, but weight   
lifting was not one of his strong suits. After arguing with himself, Peter   
concluded that it didn't matter. He would have to carry Carter out; it was the   
only way. He lifted the younger man up and put him over his shoulder in a   
fireman's carry.   
  
"God, that hurts!" Carter screamed through the mask. Peter's shoulder dug   
into his stomach and abdomen and a lancing pain shot through him like a   
lighting bolt.   
  
"Peter, you are going to interfere with his breathing, and it's obvious that his   
respiratory system has been compromised," Luka told the surgeon angrily.   
  
"We have to get out of here, Kovac, and he can't even walk. Let's go now!   
See if you can push that oxygen tank, I still have to carry the fire   
extinguisher." Peter went over to the door and waited for the other doctor   
and Mrs. Cobb to stand next to him.   
  
"If we need to get out of here, then it would be best if I carried Mrs. Cobb to   
help navigate the building. We need fast mobility, both the fire extinguisher   
and oxygen we will have to leave behind," Luka informed him. Peter sighed   
heavily and Luka went over to Carter, where his head was hanging down.   
"One more deep breath, Carter," Luka told him.   
  
Carter breathed in and Luka took the mask away. The younger man groaned   
when Peter shifted him slightly. "Carter, just hang on man, I know this is   
hurting you, but we need to move fast," Peter told his former student softly.   
  
"Sorry about this, Mrs. Cobb." Luka told the elderly woman, as he lifted her   
up and carried her in his arms. Both men mentally counted to three, and ran   
into the hallway one final time.   
  
  
Note: This chapter would not have been possible without the help of Debbie   
who answered in my time of need with wonderful brilliance. Thank you so   
much Debbie!   
Warning: This contains some serious angst.   
  
  
The dangerous trek back through the hallway was a struggle for Peter, as he   
tried to run while shouldering Carter's weight. He could not use the wall as a   
guide, and the only way he stayed oriented was by staying close to Luka.   
Peter kept his right hand wrapped around Carter's back and his left one   
around the doctor's legs. Peter tightened his grip on his co-worker when the   
group approached the site of their previous confrontation with the fire. The   
hole where the ceiling had caved in was like a gateway for the flames as they   
crawled along the ceiling. Peter had no choice but to unload his friend to the   
floor, or Carter could get burned from being in close contact with the ceiling.   
  
"Wait a second," Peter called out. He waited until he heard Luka stop, then   
he bent down to slide Carter off his shoulder. The younger doctor could not   
stand on his feet, and Peter once again wrapped Carter's left arm around his   
neck.   
  
"Okay," Peter said, and he pulled Carter with him, his feet practically   
dragging on the floor.   
  
Carter wasn't able to keep up with Peter's pace. The surgeon took his right   
hand and grabbed hold of the side of Carter's pants, since the man wasn't   
wearing a belt. 'I never understood why you wore suspenders' Peter thought   
his mind trying calm him down with idle thoughts. Peter pulled on the fabric   
in an effort to lift the man up and encourage him to walk forward.   
  
Luka managed to carry Mrs. Cobb without much difficulty, but he was on a   
constant look out for falling debris from the ceiling. Small parts of burning   
ceiling tile would descend to the floor, and Luka tried to dodge the toppling   
pieces as best he could in the blackness of the smoke.   
  
The group trudged through the pile of rubble that was on fire earlier and   
valiantly avoided the flames above their heads. Peter's heart was racing, as   
he knew that they were near their escape now. He used this feeling to re-  
energize his resolve and pulled Carter along even faster than before.   
  
Luka found the door and entered the stairwell. The smoke there was as dense   
as the floor they exited, and Luka prayed he could keep his balance as he   
descended the stairs in the dark. As he made his way down the first flight, he   
stopped to verify that his co-workers were behind him.   
  
"Are you all right, Peter?' he asked when he noticed that he was alone on the   
landing.   
  
"I'm coming!" Peter called back. Peter took a deep breath and rested for just   
a brief moment before lifting Carter up again over his shoulder. It would be   
easier and faster to haul the doctor down than it would be to continue to drag   
the man down the stairs. "God, Carter, you're heavier than you look." Peter   
complained under his breath.   
  
"Thanks," was Carter's almost whispered reply. With each flight of stairs   
Peter gradually felt safer from the danger. By the time they reached the third   
floor he could make out some of the steps through the haze. When he   
approached the second floor he stopped for a moment to catch his breath as   
he struggled to carry the other doctor.   
  
For his part, Carter allowed himself to be hauled around. He wasn't quite   
sure how and why he was being carried over Peter Benton's shoulder. Carter   
was relatively confused about what was transpiring. He couldn't stand, he   
hurt all over, and he was having a hell of a time breathing. To top it all off,   
being carried upside down was compounding the horrible headache that   
threatened him with a cloud of blackness, beckoning him away from the pain   
he felt.   
  
Peter reached the final flight of stairs and went through the door that was   
being held open by Luka. Both men carried their charges through the lobby   
and were startled when another explosion rocked the hospital. Luka looked   
behind him for a moment, and turned to face Peter.   
  
"There goes the ceiling on the fourth floor," he told the surgeon.   
  
Peter didn't answer the man, knowing how close they all came to being   
caught on that floor when it finally gave in to the fire raging within its walls.   
Instead, Peter was more alert to the sounds of sirens that could be heard   
outside. There were several blurring noises and horns honking. He could see   
blue and red lights flashing through the windows, Peter hoped that there was   
an ambulance waiting for them when they went outside.   
  
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX  
XX   
  
Robert Romano was a champagne cork ready to be popped. Pacing was not   
exactly what he was doing, more like he was wearing away the grass in the   
path from his constant nervousness and anger. He was furious that three of   
his doctors were in the middle of a burning hospital against his orders and he   
was close to going postal towards Dr. Chuck Logan.   
  
After a few more strides over the grass Romano halted in his tracks and   
screamed out loud, "Son of a bitch!"   
  
Many of the staff that was milling around looked up, startled from the   
outburst, and Romano did not bother to hold his composure. He locked eyes   
with Dr. Logan who was a few feet away, drilling a hole in the man's head   
with his intent gaze. The Grady chief of staff simply turned away, oddly   
intent with talking with the injured tech. Romano had about enough of the   
man's callous unconcern about his people and was about to unload holy Hell   
on the man when he heard sirens in the distance.   
  
"About Godamn time!" He grumbled to no one. Romano went about   
explaining procedures to the gathered staff concerning patient transfers. He   
went over to where Dr. Logan was standing over Taylor Evans.   
  
"I think he is our number one priority for transfer because of his injuries, I'll   
arrange for his immediate transport when the EMT's get here." Romano   
informed his nemeses.   
  
"I'll oversee his care when he arrives in the ER." Logan told the balding   
doctor.   
  
"I think you have more immediate concerns regarding this disaster and your   
lax in safety protocols, Logan." Romano told the Chief in a most accusing   
tone.   
  
Logan walked right to Robert's face and peered down at him, using his   
height in some kind of intimating tactic. "I think the fact that one of your   
staff was in the very spot of the fire's outset is what you should be worried   
about, Rocket." Logan glared at the man with a slight smile tugging on his   
face.   
  
"What in the world gave you that ridiculous notion?" Romano fired back.   
  
"Well, according to Mr. Evans, he had to drag Dr. Carter out of a supply   
closet where evidently the fire started. It seems to me that your gimp of a   
doctor was probably the cause of the fire. Should teach you a thing or two   
about letting unqualified personnel on your staff." Logan replied.   
  
Romano could feel his face turn several shades of red and he tried valiantly   
to control the tremors going down his arms and into his fists. Before he had   
a chance to channel his rage several EMT's ran up to the two doctors with a   
barrage of questions.   
  
Romano cut away from his confrontation with Logan to ensure that someone   
took charge of Grady's patients. Just as he was overseeing Taylor's transfer   
onto an ambulance he heard a commotion and turned to see Luka Kovac and   
Peter Benton running out of the hospital. Both doctors were carrying people   
and Romano went into action.   
  
"You!" He pointed to two EMT's. "Come with me!" Romano ran towards his   
co-workers meeting them half way towards the lawn.   
  
Romano caught up with his doctors and helped Peter Benton lower Carter to   
the ground. Romano saw the kind of shape the young resident was in and   
wanted to make sure that the other two doctors were uninjured. Robert   
glanced at Peter to see if the man was all right. The man was breathing hard,   
but he wasn't struggling for breath, a sign of smoke inhalation. There were   
no signs of burns on either doctors and Romano assessed that Benton was   
simply winded from carrying Carter.   
  
Luka Kovac put down Judith, who was able to stand on her own two feet.   
One of the EMT's, a very tall and thin, black man went up to her with an   
oxygen mask.   
  
As soon as Peter had Carter settled on the ground he looked at a female   
EMT who's nametag read Jennifer. "This man needs oxygen right now!"   
Peter barked.   
  
Carter lay on the ground unable to breathe properly. His face was flushed   
red and he was sweating profusely. Peter saw that the burn on his side was   
minor and now he had the chance to mull over the question whether Carter   
had damaged any of his previous injuries. There was no telling what the   
young man had gone though and Peter was frustrated at the fact that he   
could have caused further injury by hauling around like a sack of potatoes.   
  
Jennifer brought out an oxygen mask and placed it on the wheezing man on   
the ground. The EMT then took out a blood pressure cuff and wrapped it   
around Carter's arm and took his pulse.   
  
Jennifer yelled at one of her associates, "We need a gurney here right now!"   
She turned to Peter, "Pulse is 130, BP is 80/60." She said with concern.   
  
"Why is his pressure so low, Peter?" Romano asked angrily after hearing the   
EMT's relay.   
  
"I don't know!" Peter replied miffed.   
  
Peter looked at his friend. "Carter, hey Carter? Were you exposed to   
anything in the fire? Any chemicals?" Peter asked frantically.   
  
Romano watched the younger doctor shake his head confusion evident on   
his face. Carter placed his hand on his chest while he continued to struggle   
to breathe despite the oxygen.   
  
Peter was persistent as the other EMT's placed a backboard under the   
younger man and loaded him on a stregher. Peter ran along side it hoping to   
get his former student to answer him. "Come on man, try to think?" Peter   
pleaded.   
  
Carter locked eyes to see the worry and panic on Peter Benton's face. He had   
only seen that look on very rare occasions and he tried to think hard. His   
head was killing him, making his mind all fuzzy. Deep inside Carter felt like   
he couldn't let his mentor down and tried to recall the events that transpired.   
After concentrating, the circumstances of the day started flashing through his   
mind and Carter understood what was happening to him and what he had   
done. Carter struggled to pull the mask off his face. He vainly tried to gasp   
for breath and managed to choke out a word.   
  
"Benzene." Was his panicked reply. Carter looked at Peter with a sad   
expression hoping the surgeon would not be too mad at him for keeping this   
information from him.   
  
Peter felt two totally unmistakable emotions at once. He was experiencing   
utter fury at the fact that the younger doctor knew he was exposed to   
Benzene fumes and recklessly disregarded his own health for the sake of a   
patient. He also felt overwhelming fear knowing the medical effects it would   
have on him.   
  
"Damn it! Carter!" Peter watched his former student being loaded into the   
ambulance.   
  
Luka, who had been observing Judith's care decided to chime in on the   
information.   
  
"Could be the reason he appeared confused earlier." Luka said trying to be   
helpful.   
  
"I know that, Dr. Kovac!" Peter bitterly snapped at the other doctor.   
  
Peter placed his hand on the ambulance door as it was about to be closed in   
his face. "I'm riding with him, now scoot over!" Peter ordered the female   
EMT who didn't seem to want to argue knowing how limited their time was.   
  
Robert Romano and Luka Kovac stood silently by as the ambulance drove   
away and as fire trucks starting pouring into the parking lot. Both doctors   
looked at each other and ran over to the ambulance that was transporting   
Mrs. Cobb. Romano strode overt to the EMT who was heading to the   
driver's side door.   
  
"Hey, have all the patients been transported to County?" Romano asked the   
medic.   
  
"All cases were picked up while we were attending to these victims. The   
only people transported to County was the man with the injured pelvis, your   
guy and we're sending this lady there." He answered obviously in a hurry.   
  
"Well then the two of us are riding with you. Dr. Kovac and I will be needed   
and I'm not taking no for an answer." Romano told the driver pointedly.   
  
"Fine, one in the front, one in the cab. Now let's go." The medic replied   
annoyed.   
  
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX  
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX   
  
Peter could not sit aside in the ambulance, instead he stayed close to the   
head of the gurney as the other medic, Steve, worked feverishly to establish   
Carter's vitals. Carter was very pale and his burns covered a larger area on   
the lower part of his chest then Peter first noticed in the hallway.   
  
Steve looked to the surgeon, "BP is down to 80/50, pulse still 130, his   
respiration's are 9. I'm setting up an IV."   
  
Carter looked at Peter expectantly while fighting to catch his breath on 100   
percent oxygen. Carter was gasping for air as well as struggling to tell Peter   
something as he weakly signaled him with one of his hands to come near   
him.   
  
Peter placed his hand on the gurney as he leaned in close to Carter's face.   
  
"Carter, don't fight the mask, come on now, calm down." Peter tried to relax   
the resident who maintained fighting for the air needed to tell Peter   
something.   
  
Carter violently grabbed Peter's shoulder and pulled him down with more   
strength than the surgeon gave him credit for. Carter swiped the mask away   
and lifted his head up to his friend's ear.   
  
"Sorry." Carter managed to rasp out between gasps, startling Benton as he   
fell back to the gurney and his eyes rolled back in his head. Peter placed his   
hand on Carter's shoulder, "Don't do this to me, man!"   
  
Peter looked down at Carter panicked as Steve went to action. "Carter!" The   
surgeon called out to his unresponsive friend. Peter instinctively grabbed the   
man's hand and squeezed it.   
  
"Resps are down to 6, I need to establish an airway." Steve went to intubate   
Carter and glanced at the shocked surgeon. "Start another IV, Doc!" the   
EMT commanded.   
  
Peter went to start an IV on Carter's left arm. He was in the midst of   
injecting the needle when Carter's arm jerked away, ripping it out. "Damn   
it!" Peter cursed as blood started to trickle from the wound.   
  
Suddenly Carter's arm starting twitching and his body began to shake. "He's   
having a seizure! Hold him down!" Peter yelled at he put his arms on   
Carter's chest, careful of his burns.   
  
The medic removed his intubation kit; "I can't establish an airway; he's   
moving around too much! I'm bagging him now!" Steve grabbed the oxygen   
and started forcing the air into Carter's lungs.   
  
Steve looked over at Benton and gave him a stern warning. "We'll be at   
County in less than a minute, DO NOT give this man any cardio stimulants   
because of the Benzene toxicity!" Steve locked eyes with Peter and noted his   
apprehension. "Trust me, I handled these cases before. The Benzene is   
blocking the oxygen receptors in his red blood cells." Steve told the other   
doctor as they pulled up to County.   
  
Peter nodded and whispered to Carter who had not stopped convulsing.   
"You're not letting some chemical defeat you man, you're so much stronger   
then that!"   
  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx   
  
Dave Malucci was walking by the admit desk when he saw Dr. Chen   
looking over a chart. He never understood why the other resident never came   
around to his charm, but that was something he could not think about right   
now.   
  
"Hey, did you hear that the guy in exam one was in a fire over at Grady   
Memorial?" Dave asked.   
  
Chen looked up from her paperwork, a look of worry across her face.   
"There's a fire there?"   
  
"Yeah, the doc that's with him is ordering Dr. Greene around like he's   
running the trauma. Abby's still there and Greene sent me out here for two   
more victims."   
  
"Where's Dr. Weaver?" Chen asked as she started to get gowned for the   
incoming units.   
  
"She went home, its you, me, Dr. Greene and Elizabeth is coming down."   
Dave replied.   
  
"Aren't Benton, Kovac, and Carter at Grady?" Chen asked.   
  
A gurney came crashing through the bay doors with Benton racing along   
side it. Dave's answer to Chen was cut off as he saw Carter laying on the   
gurney in the midst of convulsions. He experienced a horrible feeling of deju   
vu at the sight of his co-worker being transferred to a trauma room for the   
second time in three months. Dave thought Chen looked to be as shocked as   
he felt.   
  
"Chen, go get Dr. Greene!" Dave told her anxiously, trying to snap the   
young woman out of her shock.   
  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx   
  
Green burst into the trauma room after sending Dave and Chen to attend to   
the injured tech. He approached the gurney, shocked to see Carter even   
though both Dave and Chen warned him ahead of time.   
  
They moved Carter over to the trauma table. His color was ashen, and he   
was barely breathing. His body was in the throes of a violent seizure; it took   
every hand in the room to keep his body on the table.   
  
"B/P 70/40, pulse 140, respiration's 4, GCS 5, lost the IV en route, unable to   
secure an airway, bagged him by mask en route, burns over the lower third   
of the chest." Steve rattled off quickly. "Started seizing about 3 minutes out."   
He pointed out two IV sites, one on either arm. The left arm still copiously   
bleeding from the site.   
  
"We need an IV here! And prep for a central line." Mark called out.   
  
Haleh moved in with the IV kit, she was the best around with hard sticks.   
She secured Carter's arm between the table and her hip. "Got it." She called.   
  
"Get his head to the side!" Mark yelled. "Move, MOVE!" They moved his   
head over to the right as a stream of saliva made its way from his mouth,   
almost black in color, tinged heavily with blood.   
  
"We need to get him intubated now!" Mark moved to the head of the table,   
attempting to hold John's head still to intubate him.   
  
"Mark, he's tachy at 150." Lydia called out. "He's in V-fib!"   
  
"An amp of Epi!" Mark called for the drug.   
  
"No! No Epi!" Peter yelled.   
  
"Why not, Peter?" Mark asked.   
  
"He inhaled Benzene, so no cardiac stimulants." Peter replied.   
  
"He's in asystole!" Lydia looked nervously at the monitor.   
  
"Move the cart over here now! Let's move!" Peter took hold of the paddles.   
John's body lay perfectly still on the trauma table, the seizure had ceased.   
  
"Charge to 200 and CLEAR!" Peter yelled. John's body was lifted slightly   
off of the table from the shock, his arms dangling limply over the sides.   
  
"Nothing!" Lydia confirmed that the monitor showed flatline, no cardiac   
activity whatsoever. The deafening whine of the cardiac monitor filled the   
room.   
  
"Again, charge to 250 and CLEAR!" His body lifted a good two inches off   
of the table.   
  
"Still in asystole!" Lydia called.   
  
"Oh God, come on Carter, don't you die on me, man!" Peter pleaded as he   
placed the paddles to his former student's chest.   
  
"Again, to 300 and CLEAR!" Peter yelled.   
  
As Peter introduced another shock to his friend Luka Kovac and Robert   
Romano burst into the room.   
  
"We have a rhythm!" Peter shouted with relief.   
  
Luka forced his way to Carter's side with a glance at Romano, who remained   
in the doorway nervously watching, but staying out of the way knowing that   
the three doctors were handling the crisis.   
  
"We have to get him intubated now! How long was he down at the scene?"   
Mark asked those present, "How long?" He asked more forcefully then he   
intended. He was greeted by a momentary silence.   
  
"I'm not sure?" Peter answered gravely.   
  
Mark gazed gravely at his colleagues, mentally ticking off how long it had   
taken them to transport, and the down time in the trauma room, he may   
regret intubating him if he was never to come of the vent again, or worse   
suffered brain damage from hypoxia.   
  
Dave Malucci slipped into the room nervously and whispered something to   
Romano. The administrator's face reddened with anger. He gritted his teeth   
and nodded his head. "Help them out!" Romano ordered him pointing to the   
team working on Carter and then Romano left the room.   
  
"I can't see the cords, I need some light here!" Mark attempted to intubate;   
"I'm not getting through, what the hell? His trachea is constricted!"   
  
Luka grabbed the fiberoptic scope and a pediatric endotracheal tube. "I need   
some cricoid pressure!"   
  
Mark moved to the side, assisting Luka with the intubation. Dave went to   
Carter's left side unsure on how to help.   
  
"Tachycardic at 160! What do you want to give him?" Lydia asked.   
  
"Hang on a second, one thing at a time!" Mark and Luka called almost   
simultaneously.   
  
"Okay, Luka's in! Bag him! Somebody get respiratory in here, we need to   
get him on a vent!" Mark ordered.   
  
"Good job Luka." Mark said quietly. "Can somebody call chemistry?"   
  
"Get a central line in! Malucci! Get over here, we need a central line now!"   
  
Dave quickly grabbed the tubing needed, grateful that he was doing   
something.   
  
"Mark, he's still in V-tach!" Lydia informed him urgently.   
  
"Peter any ideas?" Mark asked. The phone rang, answered by Peter, it was   
chemistry. He explained the situation and waited their instructions. The only   
thing Peter knew for sure was no epi or cardiac stimulants, and the only   
reason he knew that was because the paramedics told him that on the ride in.   
  
"We can't give Epi or any other cardiac drugs, it'll interact with the benzene,   
hang on." Peter continued a short conversation; "We need to set up for a tap   
water lavage, normal saline catharsis." Peter moved to the head of the table   
and massaged the carotid arteries; they all watched the monitor closely as   
the heart rate decreased to a more acceptable level.   
  
"Okay, we got 110." Peter alerted the others, relieved that he was feeling   
more in control.   
  
The respiratory therapist moved in quickly, setting up the portable vent. She   
listened intently to his lungs, "I'm hearing rales 3/4 of the way up, both lung   
fields. He's awfully tight, do you want Albuterol?"   
  
"Do you think it'll help?" Luka asked the therapist.   
  
"Can't hurt." The respiratory therapist set up for a combination Albuterol and   
Atrovent treatment. Mark watched with horrid fascination, as the arm that   
had dangled limply over the table just moments previously, starting jerking   
and twitching, followed by the other arm, and both legs. The seizure came   
on again, with no warning. John's body started jerking violently and   
rhythmically, almost dislodging the ET tube from his throat.   
  
"Luka hold onto that ET tube!" Mark called. Luka moved again to the head   
of the table, and held John's head as firmly in place as he could. "Give 5 mg   
of Diazepam!"   
  
"I've lost the IV access!" Haleh called as the IV tubing swung to the floor,   
the site bleeding copiously. Haleh attempted to stop the flow with some 4 x   
4's and pressure, but his arms were jerking so violently by this time it was all   
she could do to just wipe at it.   
  
"God but he's strong!" Haleh was unable to hold the arm down and was   
content to tape a 4 x 4 over the bleeding site.   
  
"Malucci! Get that central line in now!" Mark snapped at the resident.   
  
"I'm trying, I can't do this when he's moving around!" Dave replied   
frantically as he struggled to insert the tube.   
  
Luka was struggling to hold John's head and neck in place so the ET tube   
wouldn't become dislodged. "Give it IM then!"   
  
Haleh drew up the med, and sunk the needle into John's thigh as she held   
onto him, she didn't want to break the needle off in the process.   
  
Peter didn't have any patience anymore and felt compelled to get things set   
up at a faster rate. He had no time for foul ups or excuses.   
  
"Get a portable chest in here. I want that central line in, then a chem-20,   
trauma panel, CBC, and electrolytes and a benzene level!" Peter ordered, not   
willing to give up all control to Mark during the trauma.   
  
"I need that lavage set up, and somebody get a Foley in!" Mark called out.   
John's body was still jerking but not quite as violently as before. The   
nasogastric tube was passed through his nose into his stomach.   
  
"No gag." Luka quietly announced.   
  
Peter set up the lavage, as Malucci finished up the central line, "Got it!"   
Malucci called, proud of the accomplishment, which was difficult even   
under the best circumstances.   
  
The portable x-ray was wheeled into the room and they all moved back a bit   
from the table as the film was shot.   
  
"I want those back stat!" Mark yelled. Lydia continued to watch the cardiac   
monitor as she finished cutting John's pants away to prep for the Foley. It   
didn't seem so long ago that she had done much the same thing. "Foley's in."   
This time at least, Lydia thought, he didn't have to feel the pain. She looked   
sadly down into his ashen-colored face, and noticed John's eyes opening.   
  
"Mark!" She called, "His eyes!"   
  
"Carter, Carter? Can you hear me?" Mark called out to him. John's eyes   
stared blankly ahead. The scleras were bright red, and there was no   
recognition in his eyes.   
  
Peter moved to the head of the bed, "Carter? Carter!" He squeezed his   
friend's hand, "Squeeze my hand if you can hear me!" John's eyes continued   
to stare up at the ceiling tiles, as his hand jerked free of Peter's, his body   
again jerking rhythmically, starting out more slowly than the last seizure, but   
turning into a violent tonic clonic seizure. John's eyes widened, pupils   
dilating and constricting, dilating and constricting and finally dilating so far   
that they couldn't even see the iris'.   
  
"Another 5 mg of Diazepam IV, and set him up for a phenobarb drip." Mark   
called, as they all manned their stations, attempted to keep all of the tubes in   
place.   
  
"I think you may want to up that to 10." Luka called as John's head jerked   
violently to the side, the NG tube working over time suctioning the tap water   
out of his stomach. The saliva was foaming over the ET tube, and the blood   
was coming at an alarming rate.   
  
"Okay, give him 10 mg of Diazepam." Mark called, watching as John's body   
finally relaxed with only an occasional twitch marching from his shoulders   
to his hands, which were blackened with soot from the fire.   
  
"Where the hell is all this blood coming from?" Luka asked. The respiratory   
therapist looked gravely up at Luka, meeting his gaze. It was left unsaid.   
They both knew that between the benzene and the smoke inhalation his   
lungs were probably seared. The x-ray tech moved quickly into the room and   
handed the films to Mark. He slapped them quickly up to the light box, and   
let out a heavy sigh. Luka noted his colleague's obvious distress, and looked   
back at the films. The room was silent as those present looked at the results.   
His lung tissue was damaged and it was hard to tell how permanent the   
results would be.   
  
"We need to get him up to ICU, let's move, people!" Peter barked as most of   
the staff followed the gurney out into the hallway.   
  
Peter led the gurney into the elevator with Lydia faithfully along side. The   
elevator doors closed on the silent staff that remained. Mark sighed heavily   
realization dawning on him at how close they came to losing Carter. He   
looked over to Luka with anger.   
  
"What the hell happened out there!" Mark demanded an explanation from   
the foreign doctor.   
  
Luka looked down at his feet trying to crush the feelings of confusion and   
exasperation from his mind. Before he could answer, Robert Romano   
stormed out of trauma one and marched over the assembled doctors.   
  
His eyes were darting from each person in the hallway, his nostrils flaring. It   
was apparent to Luka that the man could barley control his shaking and the   
balding doctor's face was turning beet red.   
  
"Where the hell is Dr. Logan!" Romano demanded to know. The   
administrator whirled around, staring at each doctor as his fists clenched and   
unclenched.   
  
"I haven't seen him since I left his patient to attend to Carter." Mark replied,   
unsure as to why Romano was fuming.   
  
"Is Carter all right?" Romano asked, his voice lowered an octave.   
  
"We stopped his seizures and his lungs appear to be seared from Benzene   
poisoning and smoke inhalation. Peter took him to ICU" Mark replied   
solemnly.   
  
"If you find Dr. Logan, call security then call me. Don't you dare call the   
police until I get there. I want the chance to kill that son of a bitch before   
they can stop me!" Romano told the group and went down the hall to the   
stairwell, obviously not wanting to wait for the elevator.   
  
Mark and Luka stared at each other in confusion. Dave wiped the sweat off   
his brow and turned to his colleagues. "I guess that tech had something   
important to say to Dr. Romano." Dave relayed to his friends in amazement   
to Romano's reactions.  
  
  
  
Time is the space that events take place in. Memories are what fill in those   
gaps and tend to remind us about the most trivial and the most dramatic   
events. Sometimes it is those conversations that make up our memories that   
can haunt us later on.   
  
"Dr. Benton, hang on a second, I want to talk to you." Carter yelled.   
  
"Not now, Carter," Peter replied in a hurry.   
  
"No, wait," Carter told him forcefully. "You know, for a longtime, I bought   
into your abuse and humiliation because I thought I was learning   
something."   
  
"You were," Benton replied while walking.   
  
"No--but--okay, even if there was a point to it then, there's no point to it   
now," Carter told him.   
  
"Good night, Carter." Peter hurried along the El.   
  
"You know, I'm really tired of you blowing me off. You're going to have to   
talk to me!" Carter shouted.   
  
"You want to talk now?" the surgeon replied, annoyed.   
  
"Right now," the other man insisted.   
  
"No," Benton told him as he tried to avoid the younger man. "Carter, move--  
!"   
  
"No!" Carter would not get out of Peter's path.   
  
"Carter, move!" Benton demanded angrily.   
  
"No." Insistent as ever.   
  
"Carter, get out--"   
  
"You're not going anywhere," Carter said as he grabbed Peter's shoulder.   
  
"Get off me!" Peter shouted as he pushed Carter to the sidewalk.   
  
"You okay?" Peter asked, embarrassed that he pushed Carter down.   
  
Carter slapped Benton's outstretched hand away. "What, do you care?"   
  
"Carter, what the hell is your problem?"   
  
"You know, I'm not your student any more--"   
  
"I know that -" Peter tried to answer.   
  
"Then you could treat me like any other colleague!" Carter yelled, visibly   
upset.   
  
"You're not a colleague, you're an intern!" Peter's voice matched Carter's   
tone.   
  
"For three years I did everything you asked of me and more. I deserve your   
respect because I earned it!" Carter shouted angrily.   
  
"And you threw it away!"   
  
"Why, because I don't want to be like you?" Carter demanded.   
  
"No, because you wasted my time."   
  
"This isn't about your time, it's about your egotism." Carter replied, touching   
a nerve.   
  
"Yeah, right, Carter. I'm egotistical. I got a lot of people that worked damn   
hard to make sure I am where I am, and for them I've got to be self-centered.   
I don't take time for anything. But you, man...man, I did for you, Carter. I   
did, man. You decided you don't want to be a surgeon, you don't come to   
me, you go to Anspaugh," Peter fired back.   
  
"Well, I was afraid you'd talk me out of it," Carter answered honestly.   
  
"I wish I'd had the chance to try."   
  
"Hey. You're right. I'm sorry." Knowing he did not have a real answer.   
  
"Can I go home now?" Peter asked tiredly.   
  
"Yeah."   
  
"You know Carter? You don't want to be treated like my student? Stop   
seeking my approval," Peter told his former student, and left without waiting   
for a response.   
  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx   
  
Peter Benton sat motionless in his chair. He was like a statue caught forever   
in a memory, his eyes lost in scene that repeated in his head. It was like a   
bad dream that played continuously, like the rewind button on a VCR. Of all   
the memories, times, and conversations in his life, the only one that he could   
remember in every vivid detail was one from a couple years ago. All his   
frustration, all of his disappointment came out in one onslaught in that very   
moment. The one thing tugging at his heart now was the fact that he couldn't   
think of any other memories to replace it. There were better times, but with a   
mind so totally focused on regret, it was hard to conjure any of those   
precious retrospectives at the very moment.   
  
How many times did he tell the Carter that he never gave him a second   
thought? How many moments did he lament, regretting that he couldn't   
show a little more thought, a bit more emotion, towards anybody? Why did   
he guard his heart so fiercely and dish out dissatisfaction so easily? Peter let   
his eyes wander over the various machines and tubes that were connected to   
his colleague. The vent was the only thing to break up the silence of the   
room, a slow 'whoosh' every five seconds, forcing air into a body that could   
not take in any on its own. Carter looked frail, his skin pale, and his eyes   
closed. The sight of eyes that were so over-dilated still haunted Peter's mind.   
It was the fact that eyes that once gleamed with jovial enthusiasm were   
reduced to pupils that were void of any sign of life.   
  
Peter blinked suddenly from an intense wave of emotion, and his body   
slightly shivered as his hands nervously played with the sheet covering the   
patient in the bed. Very slowly, Peter inched up towards the gurney and   
leaned in close. His hand hovered above the sleeping form and gradually   
descended to Carter's limp arm. Peter wrapped his fingers around Carter's   
wrist, careful of the IV, and squeezed it.   
  
No reaction, no movement.   
  
Peter gazed at the cardiac leads on Carter's chest, then to IV and central line,   
followed by the intubation tube going down his throat and to the pulse ox   
clip on his right finger. Peter moved his hand down and slid it into Carter's.   
He held on to it, hoping that he would feel a twitch, a change, anything.   
Peter stared at his hand clasping his former student's.   
  
"You don't need my approval because you earned it a long time ago, Carter.   
I-I should have told you. I'm sorry," Peter spoke softly.   
  
Still no reaction.   
  
Peter squeezed the unanimated hand harder and with more persistence.   
  
"What the hell happened in there, man?" Peter asked the unconscious figure.   
"What do you think you were doing?" His voice growing louder. Benton's   
anger was increasing, the frustration of the traumatic events replaying in his   
head. The thought that the current situation could have been avoided gnawed   
at Peter's conscience.   
  
"Benzene! God damn it, you know better! What were you trying to prove in   
there? Who were you trying impress?" Peter shouted, his voice echoing   
inside the ICU.   
  
"You flatlined for Christ's sake, Carter! I had to restart your heart! All   
because of what, because of what, Carter?" Peter continued to yell, his body   
trembled from stress, and his voice became hoarse. "Do you know what that   
did to me?" Peter mumbled to himself.   
  
Realizing that he was shouting to a person who could not respond or defend   
himself, Peter ended his tirade. Frustration, that was always the term he used   
to identify his emotions in regards to Carter.`It was never friendship, never,'   
Peter thought. Yet, here he was, sitting across from the other man, lecturing   
him for putting his life in danger. He was venting his hostility at Carter   
because he cared. Peter Benton was throwing away the rulebook in regards   
to speaking with the unconscious. He was exasperating at Carter, hoping the   
man would once again try to prove him wrong, and then Peter would be   
satisfied. Peter Benton would feel better because Carter would be looking at   
him, alive and not flatlining on the table where Peter had to will his hands   
not to shake as he applied 300 Jules of electricity to the man's chest.   
  
"You didn't come back on your own, Carter." Peter paused, squeezing the   
hand again. "You needed my help, and it was the scariest thing that I have   
ever done," Peter whispered, his voice once again failing him.   
  
"Dr. Benton."   
  
Peter swung around when he heard a voice from behind him. Peter let go of   
Carter's hand and it fell absently on the bed. Peter turned his head, startled to   
see the concerned eyes of Luka Kovac staring back at him. Before Luka   
could say anything, Peter carefully placed Carter's hand gently next to the   
man's still side.   
  
Luka watched the other doctor try to compose himself, wiping at his face.   
The room was too dimly lit to tell if Peter was crying or not. Luka didn't   
have to guess the way Peter turned around startled and the slight tremble that   
was evident in his hand was enough for him to know what the other doctor   
was feeling.   
  
Peter faced Luka, his hand never leaving the bed, it remained on top of the   
blanket next to Carter' hand. That very gesture touched Luka very much.   
  
"How is he?" he asked softly.   
  
Peter looked at the monitors again, noting that nothing had changed since the   
first time he had entered the room.   
  
"His pulse ox is 84, he's still tachy, and his B/P is still low, 90/60. It's to be   
expected with the Benzene in his system. We'll start treating him with an   
Intal nebulizer, and I've already got him on Cefteim and Vancomycin for   
any infection." Peter's voice faltered slightly when he realized he was   
rattling off statistics as if he was any other patient.   
  
Peter sighed heavily and looked the other way staring at the wall, gazing at   
anything other the man in the bed and the doctor in front of him. Peter's wall   
of subtle indifference and detachment was failing him now. He was   
embarrassed that his voice cracked over giving a simple summary of Carter's   
vitals.   
  
Luka didn't wish to make Peter uncomfortable, but he had things to do.   
  
"The others are involved with something and sent me up here. We didn't   
wash out his eyes when he was in the ER." Luka explained, his voice soft   
and apologetic.   
  
"I'll do it," Peter said, turning to take the saline solution out of Luka's hands.   
  
"I thought I should do it," Luka paused for a second, trying to find the words   
needed to tell the doctor the other reason he was here.   
  
Impatient Peter sighed, "What is it Dr. Kovac?"   
  
"You need to go back down to the ER. The technician that Carter saved says   
he has something very important to tell you." Luka chose his words   
carefully.   
  
"I'm a bit busy here," Peter replied, again trying to take the eye wash   
equipment.   
  
"Dr. Benton, it's very urgent that you speak with him," Luka responded more   
forcibly.   
  
"Why? What is it?" Peter asked, agitated.   
  
Luka could sense Peter's refusal to leave. "Taylor Evans says the fire wasn't   
an accident, and he will only explain things if you come down and talk with   
him."   
  
Peter walked away from the bed and went up to Luka. "What do you mean it   
wasn't an accident?"   
  
"I don't know Dr. Benton, he apparently told Dr. Romano some things and   
when he stormed off the tech was afraid to tell anybody else unless you were   
there with him," Luka said, raising his hands out in a calming gesture.   
  
Peter was confused at first. Then when he managed to process what Luka   
had told him, all of his fear was re-charged into anger. He didn't have any   
idea what caused the fire; it was the least of his concerns. Now he was being   
told that a fire that almost killed four people was the result of something   
deliberate. It was enough to send Peter over the edge.   
  
Luka didn't know how to pacify the man in front of him, who went from   
defeated to infuriated in less then a few seconds. However, Luka noticed   
some slight movement from the patient in the bed.   
  
"I think he's coming around, Peter," Luka told him as he moved to the   
railing.   
  
Benton was instantly back at Carter's bedside as the younger man began to   
stir. "Hey, Carter?" Peter whispered.   
  
Carter's eyes opened for a second and quickly squeezed shut. He scrounged   
up his face and Carter's hands went to wipe at his eyes.   
  
Peter noticed the pulse monitor beeping a bit faster and Peter turned to Luka.   
"Let me have that saline."Peter took the saline. He pulled Carter's hands   
away from his face. "Hey, man, it's fine. I'm going to rinse out your eyes so   
theydon't burn so much," Peter calmly informed the other doctor. The   
surgeon peeled each eyelid open and washed out each bloodshot eye.   
  
After a few moments, Peter finished cleaning Carter's eyes out. He put the   
saline on the tray next to him and sat back down on the chair. Luka remained   
standing keeping a watchful eye on all the monitors.   
  
Carter blinked several times and ran his right hand over his throat. He craned   
his neck and then pointed at the vent. He looked at Peter, his face betraying   
his fear.   
  
"The benzene burned the alveolar sacs in your lungs. The tissue will heal   
though, and we'll do a bronchial wash to clear things out. In an hour we'll   
use an Intal nebulizer with a blow that will be inserted into the intubation   
tube," Peter told Carter calmly.   
  
Carter nodded his head and closed his eyes. He put his shaking right hand on   
his chest and gently rubbed it. He stared at Peter, his eyes giving him a   
questioning look. Carter's eyes then drifted over to the dressings on his side.   
  
"You only have minor burns, I don't even think they will be permanent. As   
for your chest, it is probably sore from the decreased lung capacity," Peter   
lied.   
  
Luka shifted uncomfortably at the other doctor's words, and his eyes drifted   
over to Carter's. The younger man looked over at him and turned to face   
wall. Carter traced some imaginable circles on one side of his breastbone   
and then on his left side.   
  
Peter watched Carter's trembling hands went back to his face. Even though   
his head was turned away from the two doctors both Luka and Peter could   
see a tear stream down the side of Carter's face. Peter's throat constricted and   
his breath hitched inside his chest. The surgeon glanced at Luka, and the   
other doctor left the room to give them privacy.   
  
Peter walked to the other side of the bed so he was facing Carter. He would   
not leave him alone again. He went away to give Carter time to compose   
himself regarding Lucy's death; he wouldn't do that again when the man   
needed comfort.   
  
Carter draped his left arm over his eyes to hide them from Peter's view.   
  
"Carter," Peter called to him. The man didn't move, so Peter pulled Carter's   
arm away from his eyes. "Carter, it's going to be all right. I know...I know   
what you're feeling. I'm the one who had to do it," Peter said in a low voice.   
The surgeon understood that as a doctor, Carter knew how serious his   
condition had been that he had to be shocked to re-start his heart. The young   
man's chest was probably very sore and Carter could tell from that dull ache   
that he was some point in V-tach.   
  
Carter locked eyes with Peter. His face was sullen, and the fact that he   
couldn't speak was even more troublesome. He lifted his arm and pointed at   
the blood pressure reading, which was still low, and he gestured with his   
hands weakly towards his central line.   
  
"We need to wait for your lung capacity to improve before we take out the   
tube. You're blood pressure will remain low as long as the benzene   
depresses your bone marrow and blocks off the red blood cells."   
  
Noticing another look of panic spread on Carter's face, Peter placed one   
hand on the man's shoulder and the other one in the doctor's grasp.   
  
"I didn't let anything happened to you in the ER, and I'll make sure you get   
through this just fine." Peter tried to smile reassuringly. "However, I won't   
promise that I won't kick your ass when you're better for lying to me about   
your condition back in that hallway.   
  
Carter looked sheepishly at the other doctor and Peter squeezed his hand   
again. "I'm glad you are going to be all right, Carter."   
  
John stared at him intently.   
  
Peter bent down, his face mere inches from Carter's. "You will be fine,   
Carter. I'll be back in a few minutes, then I'll walk you down to your MRI,   
for your back, so I can make sure you didn't destroy all the hard work I did a   
few months ago."   
  
Carter closed his eyes and Peter glanced at all the monitors one more time.   
Peter then left the room and rested his back against the wall. Luka got up   
from his chair and wandered over to the other doctor.   
  
"He's going to be okay, Peter."   
  
Peter didn't look at Luka as he started stalking off towards the elevators. The   
foreign doctor ran after him. "You are not going to do Carter any good if you   
go bursting into that room downstairs."   
  
Peter spun around, his face twitching, "If someone started that fire, then   
there is going to be hell to pay!" Peter gritted his teeth and stormed into the   
elevator.   
  
A few moments after Peter and Luka left the floor, Dr. Logan came around   
the corner of the hall. He stared at the elevator, but headed to room 111. He   
opened the door to Carter's room and stood there, staring at the frail man in   
the bed.   
  
"Good evening Dr. Carter, I do hope you're feeling better," Logan snarled   
venomously. He peered over the bed and grabbed Carter's chart, flipping   
through it.   
  
"Wow, seared lungs, smoke inhalation, says here you went into asystole. I   
always wanted to know what it was like to have my heart stop. Must have   
hurt like hell, especially when Peter had to shock you back. No chest burns   
from the paddles, lucky man, considering how faired skin you are." Logan   
stared down at Carter, who shifted uncomfortably under his gaze.   
  
"Chart says you're on Intal for you're breathing. I would have gone with   
Proventil myself, but who am I to question Dr. Benton." Logan tapped the   
chart on the bed, looking at the vent. "Well, I can'tstay long, I think a nurse   
will be coming by with that nebulizer to clear up those lungs."   
  
The monitor's rhythms were steadily increasing and Logan stared at the   
pulse ox read out. "Low pulse ox, John. You don't mind me calling you that,   
do you? I mean, since you are the one responsible for my hospital burning   
down."   
  
Carter placed his hand on his chest as a pain shot though it; he struggled to   
breathe on the ventilator.   
  
"Hey, hey, Dr. Carter calm down now. I mean, we want you well for that   
review board. So, this Benzene poisoning you're suffering from must have   
happened when you knocked down some containers, huh?"   
  
Carter struggled to sit up in the bed, and he grabbed a hold of the railing. He   
couldn't deny what Logan was saying, he knew he had caused the fire. `Why   
was the Chief of Staff tormenting him withthe knowledge?' he wondered.   
  
Logan's eyes darted to the source of the increased beeping, and smiled   
coolly. "No one can blame you for your clumsiness of course, you should   
have never reported to duty in the first place. I don't understand why good   
old Romano allows cripples to work in the ER, they don't belong there."   
Logan placed his hand on Carter's shoulder in a placating manner.   
  
"Poor Dr. Carter, first you misdiagnosed that psyche patient and it cost you   
dearly, but it really ended up killing Dr. Knight. Man, when you make   
mistakes you make doozies." Logan ignored Carter as tears ran down his   
face and he started to gag on the vent.   
  
"However, when you screwed up tonight, you almost killed that patient you   
were so concerned about. I would really reconsider your choice of   
profession, so that your mistakes will stop hurting others," Logan said   
condescendingly.   
  
"Just try to remember how all of this was your fault, young Dr. Carter, and   
maybe all they will do is take away your license." Logan tapped him on the   
shoulder. "You get better now."   
  
Logan walked out of the ICU smoothly. Carter lay in his bed, struggling to   
control his breathing. He angrily swiped at the tears running down his face.   
The sobbing only hurt his chest, and all he wanted to do was curl up and   
hide from all the pain he felt and all the torment he caused others.  
  
  
  
  
Dr. Chuck Logan exited room 111, shutting the door very quietly behind   
him. He examined the hallway, noting the absence of staff members. He   
rubbed his mustache thoughtfully with his right hand while retrieving   
Carter's chart, hidden from view, with his left. He studied it for a moment,   
flipping though several pages of notes. Logan took out a pen and scribbled a   
few sentences in various areas. He tore out a page, and for the briefest of   
moments, hesitated, considering his next actions.   
  
Logan glanced around the hospital again, noticing how clean the halls   
looked and how content the faces of the staff were as they walked past him.   
His hand wavered slightly, and he shifted his weight to the tips of his toes   
and back down to his heels. After this brief pondering, Logan regained his   
strong sense of righteousness and strode over to the ICU desk. The nurse on   
duty was on the phone and had her back turned to him, as she tried to calm   
an irate family member.   
  
While she was distracted, Logan placed the chart on the desk and hurried   
along as he saw another doctor coming towards him. He smiled brightly at   
the woman and spun around. Logan wiped his brow with his hand, also slick   
with perspiration. Dismayed at his own temporary self doubt, Logan balled   
up his fist and shook it angrily by his side. "Get a grip. Got to strike while   
the iron is hot, Chucky boy," he muttered to himself as he entered the empty   
elevator.   
  
Dr. Kate Brooks tapped her fingers impatiently on the ICU desk while the   
nurse behind the counter finished with her phone call. The older nurse   
smiled apologetically at the doctor. "Sorry about that Dr. Brooks, I had to   
calm someone down, you how it goes sometimes," the nurse explained.   
  
"Yeah, I understand. So, any new orders for me before I go on break,   
Mary?"   
  
Mary flipped though several files on her desk, piling them into a neat and   
orderly stack. She glanced around, then spotting the chart off to the side of   
the desk. She grabbed it and read the contents of the orders. "Hmmm, yeah,   
it appears as if Dr. Benton wants the patient in 111 to be extubated. Funny,   
he didn't say anything to me about it," Mary said as she handed the slip to   
the doctor.   
  
"Well, I, for one, will not question Dr. Benton's orders. That man can be a   
real ass when it comes to obeying his word to the letter," Kate replied,   
accepting the piece of paper. She read scanned the contents. "This guy must   
have come in when I wasn't on shift. All right, I'll finish with Mr. Carter and   
then I'm gone for thirty." Kate smiled and headed for room 111.   
  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx   
  
Peter strode into the ER, frantically searching for Mark Greene. When he   
spotted the attending, who was talking on the phone near the admit desk, he   
stalked over. Mark looked up at Peter's determined approach and put the   
phone down. He placed his hands up in the air, reminiscent of what Luka   
had done earlier.   
  
"Whoa, Peter, you're going to have to calm down before you go barging in   
there." Mark looked at the other man pointedly. Noting his rapid breathing,   
Mark tried to reason with him. "Look, you have been through something   
very stressful and you have been on since early this morning. Take a   
moment to compose yourself, you just got out of the ICU and I know you.   
You're high strung from what happened in the ER earlier, we all are."   
  
Mark noticed Luka walk up next to the surgeon, who was apparently   
ignoring his lecture. "I'm going in with you and Dr. Kovac because I want to   
know why three of my doctors and an elderly patient were caught in a fire."   
Mark used his authoritative tone and noticed Peter sighing with irritation.   
  
"By the way, Mrs. Cobb wants to see Carter when we are done in there,"   
Mark mentioned as an afterthought.   
  
"Shouldn't she be admitted somewhere? The woman suffered a stroke," Peter   
asked exasperatedly.   
  
"No, she didn't. I sent her up for a head CT and the results were negative. I   
sent Chuney up to Neurology to get nerve conductive tests and the results   
were indicative of Bell's Palsy," Mark informed the two doctors.   
  
"Oh, man," Peter muttered, obviously disturbed by the news. The doctor   
rubbed his hands over his face and chuckled in an almost hysterical way.   
  
"Are you all right, Peter?" Mark asked, concerned by the surgeon's odd   
reaction.   
  
"I'm fine. Carter was right." Peter stared off into space and then startled   
everyone by slamming his hand into the desk. "Damn it!" he shouted.   
  
The sudden outburst caused a wave of silence across the room, and quite a   
few stares. Randi stopped polishing her fingernails and Chuney looked over   
with a worried expression. Mark glanced around, his expression telling   
people to ignore the emotional display and get back to work. Peter remained   
hunched over the desk in a vain attempt to keep his feelings under control.   
He methodically stood up and put his hands on his hips.   
  
"I'm fine. I want to talk to the tech now," Peter said in a smooth and calm   
voice.   
  
Mark adjusted his glasses and indicated to the other doctors to follow him.   
The trio walked to a private room, which was flanked by two security cards.   
After inspecting their ID badges, the doctors were allowed in, where two   
police detectives were seated in chairs. Upon their arrival, both detectives   
got up, relieved that they might finally receive some answers.   
  
The first man was short and overweight with a balding head of hair. He   
extended his hand to Mark. "Dr. Greene, glad you brought the other doctor   
so we can finally get started." The short detective turned his attention to   
Peter. "So, you're Dr. Benton, my name is Detective Walter Burns and this is   
my partner, Detective Jack Hammond.   
  
Detective Hammond was middle aged with a buzz cut and a long nose.   
"How are you doing?" he asked Peter.   
  
"Just fine," Peter answered gruffly. He turned to Taylor, who had been   
watching the exchange nervously. He was hooked up to an I.V. and was   
running his hands through his hair. Peter tried to slow his breathing and   
glared at the tech. Taylor was flat on his back and tried to squirm from   
Peter's intense gaze, but with a cast on his leg and several bandages from his   
burns he couldn't move around in the bed very much. `He wasn't even on an   
oxygen mask. Sometimeslife shined on the wrong people', Peter thought"I   
wanted to talk to you Doctor," Taylor said timidly.   
  
Luka watched Peter, as he crossed his arms in front of him, simply staring at   
the tech, biting his lip in anger. Luka stayed close to Peter and he glanced up   
at Mark. The two exchanged a silent understanding that if the surgeon lost   
control, they would restrain him. Both doctors inched up a little closer as the   
tension in the room thickened. Luka wiped his brow, it seemed the   
temperature had risen very quickly from the high levels of emotion.   
  
"Go ahead," Peter told the technician in a tone that was more like an order.   
  
"Well...you see, that young doctor saved my life. He...he didn't have to help   
me, but he did," Taylor stammered, looking at his hands as he spoke.   
  
"He tends to selfless when it comes to helping people," Peter told the tech   
bitterly.   
  
The two detectives shifted their gaze to Peter in a silent communication; that   
he should let the patient continue without interruption. Peter shifted his   
weight from one foot to the other, but stopped when he recognized it as a   
sign of nervousness. It was also the same thing Carter did when he was   
impatient. Peter sighed inwardly at the thought that he had picked up one of   
Carter'shabits.   
  
Taylor closed his eyes and rubbed them. When he spoke again the words   
came out in one long burst of sobbing regret. "The hospital was closing   
down and I couldn't find a job. I was desperate, since I was new and all. I'm   
three months behind in all my bills and my wife, Jenna, is pregnant. I really   
needed the money!" Taylor explained in near hysterics.   
  
The three doctors listened carefully, still unsure of what to expect. The two   
detectives took notes quietly.   
  
"Then Dr. Logan offered me a large amount of money if I did...did this thing   
for him," Taylor continued.   
  
"Dr. Logan?!" Peter bellowed as he grabbed the railing of the hospital bed.   
Mark and Luka moved forward, but Peter didn't make any attempt to grab   
the tech.   
  
"You mean Dr. Logan had something to do with this?" Lukaquestioned with   
outrage.   
  
"Who is Dr. Logan?" Detective Burns asked, scribbling in his notebook.   
  
"He's the Chief of Staff as Grady Memorial," Luka answered abruptly.   
  
Taylor watched Peter carefully, aware of how volatile the man was. He   
licked his lips before continuing. "He, uh, wanted me to start a fire. He told   
me no one was going to get hurt!" Taylor pleaded with the group to   
understand.   
  
"How did he want you to do this, Mr. Evans?" Detective Burns asked.   
  
"He told me that on the fifth floor there was a supply closet, and it had a lot   
of Benzene containers. He wanted me to place the containers in an area that   
would catch the most stuff on fire as possible and still seem like an   
accident," The tech said as he played with the sheets on the bed.   
  
"Benzene?" Detective Hammond questioned.   
  
"Benzene is the chemical that is used in hospitals to get E.K.G. pads of   
cardio leads off a person. In small quantities, it is a simple solvent that we   
keep in small tubes. They are stored in large gallon containers in most   
cases," Mark explained.   
  
"Okay, go on Mr. Evans," Detective Burns prodded.   
  
"So, I placed them on the shelf. I mean, that closet was a disaster area, lots   
of boxes and flammable stuff. I loosened an electrical outlet so it would   
seem like a short circuit might have started the fire, and I even got a bunch   
of dust rags ready." Taylor continued to tell his story.   
  
"The problem was waiting for everyone to go on lunch, no one was   
supposed to be on the floor. I waited in one of the imaging rooms for the   
longest time. The next thing I know I hear this explosion." Taylor looked at   
Dr. Benton. "I swear I didn't start that fire, that kid must have accidentally   
knocked something over." Taylor seemed to beseech understanding from   
Peter.   
  
"That was Dr. Carter, not some kid! He's worked very hard to earn that title,"   
Peter growled. His grip on the railing turned his knuckles white as he   
channeled his rage onto part of the bed.   
  
"He...he collapsed into the hallway. I...I helped him out of there, he couldn't   
walk." Taylor tried to reason with the group of doctors. "I, I helped." Taylor   
started to sob. "He was the one to remain calm and shook me out of my   
shock. He made me breathe through my shirt because the hallway was full of   
benzene fumes. When we ran towards the fire to get out, the ceiling caved in   
and the air conditioning unit landed on me. He...he took his shirt off so I   
could breathe through it and he...he was left unprotected. He pushed the unit   
off me and got us out of there!" Taylor was shaking. "No one was supposed   
to be there, I swear! Then Dr. Logan turned on the air conditioning like he   
said he would," Taylor explained between sobs.   
  
"What was the point of that, Mr. Evans?" Detective Burns asked.   
  
"If there is air circulating through the vents, it will draw out the fire and help   
it spread. By waiting until about the time the fire started, it was a guarantee   
that it would burn through the infrastructure," Luka explained.   
  
The detectives looked at him with interest, and Mark gave him a questioning   
look. "I was involved with some fires back home," Luka simply stated, and   
gazed at the floor.   
  
"So, where is this Dr. Logan?" Detective Hammond asked the group.   
  
"I'll go and find him for you," Peter growled and stormed out of the room.   
  
Mark and Luka followed the enraged doctor out into the hall. Peter was   
pacing up and down, barely avoiding people as they walked by. Mark   
walked up to Peter as Luka returned to the exam room to speak with the   
police.   
  
Mark cautiously placed his hand on Peter's shoulder. "Peter, why don't you   
go home and get some sleep?"   
  
Peter stared at Mark as if he had suddenly grown a second head.   
  
"I'll look after Carter personally," Mark added, knowing the surgeon   
wouldn't leave the hospital when Carter was still in intensive care.   
  
"I'm staying, and when I find that son of a-"   
  
Mark cut Peter off. "No, I'm ordering you to go home. I'm the attending here   
and I don't think you are emotionally fit to be at work right now." Mark   
spoke calmly and with authority.   
  
"If you want to pull that attending crap with me to stop me from working,   
fine, but you can't prevent me from doing anything when I'm off duty," Peter   
retorted.   
  
"Peter, you-" Mark's rebuttal was interrupted by the beeping of a pager.   
  
Peter looked down and grabbed his pager from his belt. If it was possible,   
his frown deepened.   
  
"It's the ICU," Peter said, hurriedly leaving Mark behind as he sprinted   
towards the elevator doors, which slid close in his face. Peter slammed his   
palm against the metal and raced to the stairway.   
  
Mark was left agape in the hallway, torn between following Peter to the ICU   
to find out what was going on, or grabbing Luka for an update on Dr. Logan   
and Dr. Romano's whereabouts.   
  
"Oh boy," Mark said under his breath, as he turned back to retrieve Luka and   
see if they could locate Logan before Peter Benton got his hands him. Not   
that Mark didn't want the bastard to pay for endangering his employees and   
putting Carter in the hospital, but he didn't want the displeasure of bailing   
out one of County'semployees from jail for assault.   
  
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx   
  
Peter bounded into the ICU almost out of breath, and nearly collided with   
Mary, who was waiting for him outside of Carter's room with an anxious   
look on her face. Peter peered into the room and noticed two people trying   
frantically working on Carter. Mary followed Peter in as he made his way to   
Carter's bed.   
  
"What the hell is going on here?!" Peter bellowed at the doctor who was   
unsuccessfully trying to intubate Carter.   
  
Carter was weakly trying to restrain the hands of the female doctor, who was   
attempting to place the intubation tube back down his throat amidst the   
shrilling of alarm bells. "Move aside!" Peter yelled at the resident as he   
pulled the intubation kit from her hands. Peter gave her a fiery stare that   
quenched her bewildered look of shock.   
  
Peter looked down at his patient, whose face was flushed red straining to   
take in air. Carter held out his hands, indicating to Peter that he wanted to   
give him a second as he struggled to breathe freely without the aid of the   
ventilator. Peter's eyes darted to monitor that was beeping at a faster rate   
then the doctor would have liked. When Peter turned back, Carter's eyes   
begged him to givehim a chance to breathe without the vent.   
  
"What are this man's vitals?" Peter barked to the nurse on the other side of   
Carter's bed.   
  
She wiped a strand of red hair out her face. "Pulse is 125, BP 105/80 and I   
don't have a pulse ox," The nurse rattled off quickly.   
  
"Carter, let me intubate you, your lungs are took weak for this." Peter's voice   
was edged with a pleading tone that he didn't like to hear. "Who the hell   
extubated this man?" Peter hollered atthe staff assembled, but all that he   
heard was silence.   
  
Carter placed his hands over his chest in a futile effort to alleviate some of   
the pain. His chest was sore and tight from what felt like a crushing pressure   
pinning him down. Ever so slowly, he took a shallow breath, followed by   
another one. He was breathing on his own but felt extremely dizzy and   
lightheaded. He closed his eyes, focusing on every in and exhale that he   
shakily took.   
  
Tired of watching Carter fight for every breath, Peter turned to Dr. Brooks.   
"Put him on 8 liters by mask," Peter tersely ordered the resident.   
  
Kate scrambled for the mask, and put it over Carter's nose and mouth and   
turned the oxygen up. Carter took in the air and his face seemed to regain a   
more normal color. Peter scrutinized Carter with his gaze, making sure that   
that the man was able to breathe with the mask and that he wouldn't have to   
switch to a non-breather.   
  
Peter turned to Kate, his face twisted by the thunderous rage that was   
cascading through him. "Where the hell is the pulse ox clip? Did you bother   
checking it when you tried to cut this man's oxygen?" Peter asked furiously.   
  
"He didn't have one on when I came in to check on him Dr.Benton," Kate   
replied, defensive under Peter's verbal assault.   
  
Carter shakily removed his mask and spoke in a hoarse voice. "It...it came   
off...when...I shifted," Carter rasped in between breaths.   
  
Peter fixed the man in the bed with a disapproving look. "Why didn't you   
leave it on, Carter, what the hell were you thinking?" Peter asked harshly.   
  
Carter shrunk down into the bed further and he removed his mask to speak   
again. "I'm sorry...I was too...busy thinking about...what Logan said," he   
wheezed.   
  
Peter's eyes widened and he clutched the railing of the bed fiercely. "Dr.   
Logan came in here?" Peter was outraged.   
  
Carter simply nodded, too tired to mess with the mask. Peter didn't bother to   
look up at the other two people in the room when he spoke. "You two get   
out of here. As for you Dr. Brooks, I want you to wait for me outside to   
discuss the irresponsible actions that almost sent my patient into respiratory   
arrest," Peter said through clenched teeth.   
  
"But, Dr. Benton...."   
  
"I'll speak to you in a while, now get the hell out!" Peter shouted.   
  
The surgeon wearily sat in a chair next to Carter, and put his hands to his   
face when he heard the other staff members leave. Peter didn't hear Carter   
move, which disturbed him, but he finally had a good look at his friend. The   
man looked completely defeated, his somber demeanor frightened Peter.   
Carter was staring at the ceiling, his eyes void of emotion as if he   
succumbed to some battle waged in his mind.   
  
Carter turned his head to face Peter, his eyes joyless and impassive. There   
was a depth of sadness; all the exuberance that Peter remembered absent.   
"Listen, I now this is going to come as a shock to you, but it is better for you   
to deal with what I know then to beat yourself up over something that you   
had no control over."   
  
Peter was not sure what Dr. Logan had discussed with the younger man, but   
from Carter's disposition, he knew the man had either filled him with lies or   
tried to mess with Carter's head. There was no way Peter was going to sit   
back and watch Carter drown in a pool of self-blame.   
  
Peter took a deep breath before continuing. For a second, he felt utter guilt   
over the action. The simple action of breathing in deeply to relax one's self   
was a natural way of overcoming conflict. Carter couldn't do that at all. No   
soothing, cleansing breaths to focus on, just ragged breathing while oxygen   
was forced upon him. Peter looked at the tube that was connected to the now   
unused vent. Peter contemplated the horror that Carter felt at the thought that   
the machine was responsible for a life sustaining function. No wonder Carter   
refused to be intubated again, despite his medical condition.   
  
"Carter, the technician that you saved informed us that Dr. Logan wanted the   
hospital to burn down. He intended to pay the tech money, and that is the   
reason the fire started," Peter spoke keeping his voice even.   
  
Carter stared at him as he took in the information. He seemed confused and   
shook is head in a negative manner.   
  
"Hold on a second, let me finish. I don't know what happened up there, but   
Mr. Evans insisted that the supply closet was set up to catch on fire using   
Benzene and other chemicals as the fuel. He even sabotaged the electrical   
outlet to start the charge. He was waiting for everyone to leave; he thought   
you started it prematurely by accident," Peter relayed to Carter.   
  
The doctor shifted his weight in the chair. "The fire would have started even   
if you weren't there. It was pure chance that youwere on that floor, and when   
we find Logan he'll be brought up on charges," Peters said, He was bitterly   
unable to keep his feelings tucked out of the last sentence.   
  
Peter watched Carter absorb what he had said and his eyes clouded over with   
anger. His breathing labored as he tried unsuccessfully to breathe deeper   
from the intense emotion. Peter placed his hand on Carter's shoulder and   
forced the other man to look at him.   
  
"Calm down Carter, your pulse ox is only 91 and I'm still tempted to put you   
back on the vent. I know you're angry, but you need to relax and let us   
handle the situation." Peter squeezed Carter' hand even tighter. "I won't let   
the man get away with this," Peter said with conviction.   
  
Despite all of Carter's anger, he gave the doctor a brief smile from under the   
oxygen mask. He slide the mask away, "Be careful...Dr. Benton, people   
might think you...care." Carter tried to chuckle and ended up coughing.   
  
"Yeah, well I'll deny it," Peter retorted with a smallsmile. The surgeon   
looked at Carter, but the moment's camaraderie ended andthe doctor noticed   
Carter's furrowed face.   
  
Carter met Peter's concerned eyes; he pulled the mask away once again.   
"That...man tried to blame me." Carter took anothershuddering breath. "Do I   
look that...gullible?" Carter asked.   
  
Peter didn't answer, but he didn't want Carter to misinterpret his silence. "I'm   
not even going to try to reason out why that man did what he did, Carter. He   
will not come near you again, the next time I lay my eyes on Dr. Logan he'll   
be handcuffed," Peter vowed.   
  
Carter lay still, breathing slowly, and removed his mask. "If Iever see him..."   
Carter trailed off, his eyes blazing with anger. Therate of the pulse monitors   
began to increase again.   
  
"Stop taking your mask off, or I will tube you again," Peter admonished.   
Carter grunted and Peter gazed at him intently. "Whydid you allow that   
doctor to extubate you when you knew your lungs couldn't handle it?" Peter   
questioned quietly.   
  
Carter shrugged. Peter shook his head. "You never doubtedyourself before,   
Carter, don't start making it a habit." Peter rosefrom his chair, but paused a   
moment.   
  
"You were right about Mrs. Cobb, she didn't suffer a stroke,she does have   
Bell's Palsy." Peter watched a sense of relief andexoneration wash over   
Carter's face. He smiled at Peter and the doctor lefthim alone.   
  
Peter closed the door behind him and stalked over to where Kate stood   
impatiently. "Dr. Brooks, do you mind telling me why the hell you extubated   
my patient?" Peter asked furiously.   
  
The woman in front of him stared back as if he was an alien, and she crossed   
her arms in front of her chest. "I did exactly what you ordered me to!" she   
snapped back and handed him the orders.   
  
Peter snatched the offered chart and flipped through, staring at it in disbelief.   
"I never authorized this!" he snarled."Where did you get this?" Peter asked.   
  
Kate looked at him confusedly; "It was left for the ICU nurse.That is Mr.   
Carter's chart, and that is your signature." Shepointed to Peter's handwriting.   
  
Peter shook his head defiantly. "Yeah, this isn't my order tohave him   
extubated. I want you to gather all of Dr. Carter's chartsand bring them to   
me. Then I want you to call security and have guards posted in front of this   
room right now!" Peter ordered.   
  
Peter stopped in his tracks and turned to Kate once again. "Dr. Carter is to   
get his Intal nebulizer and check his Cefteim and Vancomycin levels. Those   
are my orders for now."   
  
Dr. Brooks nodded and scrambled away to do what she had been told. Peter   
took the orders and put them in his pocket. He waited a few minutes for   
security to arrive and walked up to them when they did.   
  
"Do not let anyone into that room except for me, Dr. Brooks, orMary the   
ICU nurse. I think the Grady Chief of Staff tried to hurt my patient. You   
have any questions you page me." Peter finishedgiving his instructions and   
went back down the stairs.   
  
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx   
  
Peter sprinted down the last set of stairs and opened the door into the lobby.   
He searched for Dr. Greene and bumped into Luka Kovac. Peter approached   
the other doctor. "Do you know where Mark is? Ihave something extremely   
important to tell him."   
  
Luka looked at Peter, concerned at the man's distressedappearance. "He's in   
the lounge, but..." Luka couldn't finish hissentence, because the other doctor   
brushed past him towards the break room.   
  
"Peter, wait!" Luka called out.   
  
The surgeon walked into the lounge, ready to share his suspicions with   
Mark, concerning Logan. When he looked up, he saw Detective Burns and   
Hammond standing on each side of, Dr. Logan whom sat smugly in one of   
the chairs with a very unhappy Mark Green in the corner.   
  
Logan glared at Peter with a sly smile tugging at his lips. "Ah,good to see   
you again Dr. Benton. I was just explaining to these fine detectives how   
Taylor Evans tried to blackmail me concerning some financial manners at   
the hospital, and since that didn't workwell, he resorted to copping out this   
ridiculous story about a fire. Seems when young Dr. Carter bumbled through   
that supply closet he accidentally started the blaze, and I'm sure when these   
officers question him on that he'll concur that this dreadful accident washis   
fault," Logan explained in a rational voice.   
  
Peter stood motionless, in shock at the audacity that Logan would try to   
blame the whole situation on the younger doctor. He stepped closer. "You   
were wrong about Mrs. Cobb and you are wrong aboutDr. Carter. You   
falsified his charts and tried to..."   
  
"I tried to what? Come on, please, Dr. Benton, don't tell methe incompetence   
of this staff goes from student to teacher?" Logan replied.   
  
Before anyone could react, Peter lunged at Dr. Logan just as Rocket   
Romano barged into the room.   
  
..................................   
  
  
Robert Romano stormed into the lounge unaware of the heated   
discussion going on. Upon instantly observing the situation, he   
reacted quickly and grabbed Peter's shoulder just as the man lunged at   
Logan, who stood up quickly in preparation of the oncoming attack. Romano   
pulled Peter away hard, twisting the man towards him. Mark stepped   
forward to restrain Peter while instinctively rearing his left hand back to   
knock the smile off of Logan's face, furious at the idea he was getting a rise   
out of the man in front of him.   
  
"Peter, get a hold of yourself!" Mark yelled as he grabbed Peter's fist in the   
air just before it made contact with Logan.   
  
"What the hell are you doing Robert?" Peter huffed in response to Romano's   
manhandling.   
  
"Keeping your ass from getting suspended, Peter!" Romano snapped back.   
  
"Are any of your people competent, Rocket?" Logan sneered, as both   
detectives placed their hands on the man's shoulder in a warning.   
  
Mark whipped his head back, keeping his body in between a seething   
Benton and the taunting Logan. "Can it Dr. Logan, before I let Peter pound   
on you without remorse!" Mark shouted. "Detectives, is this meeting over   
with yet?" Mark asked, trying to maintain the peace while his rational side of   
his brain was in control.   
  
"Yeah, I think we'll finish our discussion with Dr. Logan at the station   
house." Detective. Burns replied, ushering Logan around the table past Luka,   
who had been observing the crisis and prepared in case he needed to jump   
in.   
  
Peter glared at Detective Burns. "You're going to talk to him?" Peter   
emphasized the word "talk." "Shouldn't you be charging him? He doctored   
Carter's chart and almost put him in respiratory arrest!" Peter explained   
exasperatedly.   
  
"Dr. Benton, if you have any evidence for this claim, please gather it and I'll   
review it. Until then, I have to ask you to let us   
continue our investigation," Detective Hammond responded in the typical   
unfeeling professional voice.   
  
"Don't worry, I'll show you evidence, then maybe you'll do your jobs," Peter   
growled. "You two can stay away from me!" Peter spat at the two hovering   
doctors.   
  
"Fine with me, Peter." Romano strode past the surgeon towards the two   
detectives. He smiled at Logan, who chuckled openly at him. "I just wanted   
to save you the repercussions from this." Romano's fist connected squarely   
with Logan's midsection, causing the Grady Chief to double over and fall to   
his knees.   
  
Romano stepped away as Logan clutched at his gut, moaning on the floor.   
Detective Burns grunted his dissatisfaction and grabbed   
Romano's arm. "That wasn't very smart of you Dr. Romano, now this   
arrogant ass can press charges. You want to help us with this case, get us   
some proof."   
  
"This man is scum and nothing will make me more happy than to know that   
he is sent to prison and someone named Big Ed made him his   
bitch," Romano replied and glared at the shocked faces of his colleagues.   
"We'll find you the evidence that you need."   
  
The detectives helped Logan to his feet, and he stumbled out the door   
mumbling obscenities under his breath. Romano turned to his haggard staff.   
  
"Peter, you look like hell. Go home at take a shower, you've got soot all over   
you. Same goes for you, Dr. Kovac. I don't want to see your faces in my   
hospital for at least eight hours." Romano had regained his calm and self-  
assured manner.   
  
Peter began to protest, but Romano cut him off with a slashing motion of his   
hand. "I'll have the ICU staff fill me in regarding Dr. Carter's chart."   
Romano watched Peter's face twitch with disbelief. "Don't worry, I'll oversee   
his care while you are at home, Peter." Romano rebuffed the other doctor's   
argument before he had a chance to state his case.   
  
"What happened in the ICU, Peter?" Luka spoke for the first time since the   
chaos erupted.   
  
Mark and Romano looked at Peter expectantly. "When I went up there, Dr.   
Brooks had extubated Carter," Peter explained.   
  
"He was extubated?" Luka asked, shocked. "His lungs are not strong enough   
to breathe on their own."   
  
"By the time I arrived, it was too late. I took charge and ordered for him to   
be placed on 8 liters by mask," Peter replied tiredly.   
  
"Peter-" Mark started in a disapproving tone.   
  
"Look, he was adamant about staying off the vent, I left orders for him to   
monitored closely and he'll be receiving his Inteblizer every few hours. I   
have him on Intal to help him with his respiration and at the slightest hint at   
a problem he'll be re-intubated."   
  
"What about his MRI?" Luka asked.   
  
Peter rubbed his eyes wearily. "I was going to go back up there when it was   
administered," Peter said, looking at his watch. "I should go now and-"   
  
"I'll go, Peter, I already told you to go home," Romano interrupted.   
  
"I told Carter-"   
  
"My orders are final Peter. Don't worry." Romano patted the doctor on the   
shoulder and left the three doctors alone.   
  
No one had anything left to say, so the three doctors filed out of the room   
silently. Peter and Luka walked out together, fatigue   
evident by their slow movements. Mark watched them leave and hoped that   
the next day would bring all of them better news.   
  
  
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX   
  
Next day. 10:00 Am.   
  
Carter lay on the bed, exhausted. He desperately needed to sleep, his body   
demanded it, but having to fight for every breath was keeping him awake.   
Earlier Dr. Romano had taken him up to radiology for his MRI, which   
proved to be an exercise in patience. He was hooked up to an oxygen tank,   
his IV, and his central line. These items proved to be a chore to transport,   
and John just wanted to be left alone.   
  
Romano had tried to convince him to be re-intubated, chastising him for   
straining lungs that were not healed; however, Carter would have none of it.   
His body decided to remind him that it lacked proper rest and it did not   
appreciate all the damage that had been inflicted upon it. His burns itched on   
his side and his eyes felt like he was in a room full of dust as they teared up   
from all the irritation they had endured. His back hurt, constantly sending   
throbbing pain through his body, and his chest was still sore from his   
laborious breathing and the result of being defibrillated.   
  
After cataloguing all of his pain, Carter had agreed to an increase in his   
medication so that he could finally sleep, which only resulted in a four hour   
slumber. He was going to have to get up this   
afternoon, and move his muscles and try to sit up in a chair. He recalled   
quite vividly how much it had hurt to do that back in   
February, and he shivered at the thought of doing it again. He knew Peter   
would be displeased that his pulse ox had only risen to 92, and he had yet to   
be informed of his MRI results. Carter could only guess at what he did to   
himself by hauling Taylor up and down those stairs.   
  
He grunted when his thoughts strayed to the tech. The idea that the fire had   
been an intentional act orchestrated by Dr. Logan had   
infuriated John; he took his life seriously and was upset that   
someone had caused him to have to re-evaluate it again. There was another   
victim in this; Mrs. Cobb had been left up in Radiology, forgotten by all.   
John clenched his jaw under the oxygen mask and tried to shift positions to   
alleviate his growing anger.   
  
Benton had promised him that the police were going to arrest Logan for his   
crimes, but the fact that Romano had been unresponsive to his inquires about   
the Grady Chief had John wondering otherwise. What had him the most   
confused was Logan's little visit. The thought of the man pushing all of his   
buttons so easily had taught John to be more careful about wearing his heart   
on his sleeve. Exactly how Logan had picked up on his self doubt, he didn't   
know.   
  
A noise disturbed John's thoughts, and he turned his head to see Mrs. Cobb   
staring back at him apprehensively. John smiled, but understood it couldn't   
be seen underneath the breathing device. He muffled   
hello, embarrassed, he pulled the mask away from his face.   
  
"Hello, Judith," Carter rasped. His voice sounded gravely to his own ears   
and he grimaced inwardly.   
  
Judith approached the bed, wearing a sunflower dress, and her hair looked   
like it had been styled. "I went to the beauty salon bright and early this   
morning, Dr. Carter, just for you," she told him brightly.   
  
Carter was touched by the thought and waved her over with his hand. Her   
face seemed to beam and Judith slid her hand into Carter's. "You look   
beautiful, Judith." Carter closed his eyes for a second and drew in a shaky   
breath. "Your husband might get jealous," Carter added in a humorous tone.   
  
Judith blushed and laughed out loud. "Dear, Dr. Carter, Mr. Cobb has been   
dead for several years, God bless his soul. Now don't you be getting upset, I   
still go by Mrs. Cobb because our marriage is   
forever, and I'll see Jim up in heaven someday." Judith patted Carter's hand   
and her tone of voice transformed into a more worried one. "I'm so sorry you   
are in here, Dr. Carter, it's all my fault that you have to be hooked up to all   
of these machines."   
  
Carter glanced around at all the tubes that seemed to invade him. He smiled   
and pulled the mask away once more. "It's not that bad...I'll be out of here   
very soon." Carter tried to reassure the older woman.   
  
Judith shook her head in disapproval. "You are not a very good liar, Dr.   
Carter."   
  
The doctor mumbled something and removed his mask once again, a chore   
he was beginning to get annoyed with. "Call me John."   
  
"I think it is best you keep that mask of your on, John." She smiled as Carter   
pushed the mask back over his mouth and nose. The   
conversation seemed to have worn him out a bit, but he wanted to convince   
Judith that he was doing better even if his body still hurt all over.   
  
"I would have to agree with Mrs. Cobb, stop taking that damn mask off,   
Carter." Peter's irritated voice pierced the air.   
  
Carter merely grunted his dissatisfaction with Peter's entrance. The other   
doctor walked into the room, chart in hand and a very   
unpleasant look on is face. Not that this was something new, Peter Benton   
always wore a scowl, but this expression just seemed to   
emanate bad news for Carter.   
  
Judith released her grip on Carter and leaned down to give him a kiss on the   
forehead. "Well, John, I will always think of you as my hero. I plan on   
having you and the three other doctors over for supper when you are feeling   
better."   
  
Judith walked over to where Peter was standing undoubtedly waiting for her   
to leave. "You take care of John now, Dr. Benton," she told him in one of   
those motherly tones that you just don't question.   
  
Peter actually shifted uncomfortably from Judith's gaze. "I intend to, Mrs.   
Cobb," he said in a quiet voice.   
  
"Well, good. Now, do I have to show some ID to those guards outside to   
leave as well?" she asked, a bit miffed.   
  
"No, no, just go ahead and sign out when you leave," Peter replied and   
watched the older lady nod and then exit the room.   
  
Peter walked over to Carter and saw his bewildered expression.   
"Guards?" he said from under his mask.   
  
Peter hesitated, but decided to be straight with the him. "I have suspicions   
that Dr. Logan falsified my orders and wrote for you to be extubated last   
night, knowing that it would send you into repository arrest." Peter's voice   
was void of emotion in an effort keep a lid on his anger.   
  
Carter blinked several times, trying to absorb this little tidbit of information.   
He had not given much thought to the surprising   
procedure. At the time, he had been emotionally drained from Logan's little   
mind games. He removed his mask to speak despite Peter's   
obvious unease and annoyance.   
  
"He first tried to pin this thing on me, then he tried to kill me?" Carter   
couldn't quite believe it. "Doesn't sound quite right to me." Carter wheezed   
slightly, gaining a thunderous glare from Peter.   
  
"What did you want him to do, rip the tube out of you himself?" Peter   
retorted bitterly. Seeing Carter's wounded expression, he sighed.   
  
"Sorry, it's been a horrible night," Peter said frustrated.   
  
Carter didn't want to risk messing with his oxygen and again be on the   
receiving end of a Benton lecture, so he settled for a shrug.   
  
Peter chuckled slightly. "I guess you know something about that. Has the   
Albuterol nebulizer helped at all?" Peter asked, trying to switch subjects. His   
question only earned him another shrug.   
  
"Well, I ordered an Intal and Albuterol combination treatment, but I could   
switch to Proventil orally if you want," Peter said.   
  
Carter shook his head in a definite no, recalling that was the   
treatment that Logan had suggested.   
  
"That's fine, Carter. I won't lie to you, I am still very nervous about your   
pulse ox, it hasn't improved that much. The benzene should be working its   
way out of your system, but we are combating the   
damage from the smoke inhalation as well. You are not tachy anymore, so   
that is some good news." Peter reviewed Carter's chart and continued to talk   
about his medical treatment, comfortable in   
sticking to a non-emotional topic.   
  
"We will keep you on Vancomycin for prophylaxis for the next three days. I   
don't want you to suffer a set back from a lung infection. Your MRI showed   
inflammation around several vertebrae, especially around the midline. That   
means more physical therapy, which brings me to my visit. You need to get   
out of bed and move around."   
  
Carter understood that it had to be done, even though he was dreading the   
movement.   
  
"I'm going to get a nurse to help. Just take it easy, you'll probably experience   
some dissertation," Peter explained.   
  
There was a knock on the door, and Malik appeared in the room. "Hey, Dr.   
Carter, I'm here to help." At Carter's strange look concerning Malik's   
appearance in the ICU instead of the ER, he spoke. "Some of the others   
wanted to see how you were doing and well, I knew Dr. Benton needed an   
assist." The nurse looked over at Peter expectantly.   
  
Peter started to remove the sheets and Carter pushed him away,   
unnerved at the helpful gesture. "I can move my own sheets," he said under   
the mask, irritated.   
  
Carter struggled to sit up by himself, determined to do so unaided. Once up   
it was much more difficult to swing his legs over, so he allowed Malik to   
help move his stubborn left leg. Carter sat there momentarily, as Malik and   
Peter situated themselves at each side of him.   
  
Luka walked into the room and stood there in case his help was   
needed. Carter looked over at him, evidently embarrassed at the fact that so   
many people he worked with were there, waiting for him to screw up.   
  
Peter noticed Carter's reluctance and stole a glance at Luka. "There really   
shouldn't be more than three people in an ICU unit, Dr.   
Kovac."   
  
"I know, I needed to speak with you when everything is done. I can help   
move the IV poles and oxygen tank so he could move around with getting   
too tangled," Luka mentioned. He watched Carter nod his head in   
understanding and he signaled to Malik and Peter that he was   
ready.   
  
Carter gingerly stood on wobbly legs, and his two friends helped him   
straighten up as his body slightly shivered with strain. He took several steps   
forward while Peter and Malik held on to him by his shoulders and   
underneath his elbows. It was obvious that, just like a few months earlier, his   
left leg could not support his weight much, and it dragged slightly.   
  
Peter noticed Carter's left side weakness and adjusted his grip on him.   
"You're doing good, Carter, we just need to get you in the chair. I know   
what you are thinking, but the MRI did show some   
strained muscles on C-5 and C-6 of the lumbar," Peter told him   
encouragingly.   
  
Luka pushed the IV stand and oxygen tank. He was careful of Carter's   
central line and catheter and made sure they did not get in the way. He   
watched as Carter made slow progress to the chair, his breathing becoming   
increasingly labored from the effort. Finally, after want seemed like forever,   
he reached it and sagged heavily into it.   
  
Carter closed his eyes and held on to the oxygen mask as he tried to calm his   
harsh breathing. He knew that he was not increasing the flow of oxygen by   
holding on to it, but it made him feel better. He still felt Peter's hand on his   
shoulder and he opened his eyes to see the surgeon peering down at him   
worriedly.   
  
"How's the pain, Carter? Do you need another does of morphine?" Peter   
asked.   
  
Carter was too busy catching his breath and he shook his head no.   
  
"Okay then, you need to stay sitting up for thirty minutes, then we can move   
you back to the bed. I'll stay with you for a while," Peter told him.   
  
That caught Carter's attention. There was no need for Peter to sick around,   
Malik or another nurse could make sure that everything was all right. Carter   
looked up and saw Luka standing in his room,   
tension evident on his face. He glanced over at Peter and could feel the   
concern and radiating off the other man. Recalling how Romano how   
ignored his previous questions, Carter knew something was not   
following certain reassurances. Carter pulled off his mask and stared at   
Peter, his eyes daring him to lie.   
  
"Logan hasn't been...arrested, has he?" Carter asked his mentor.   
  
Luka looked down at the floor and Malik fiddled with his hands. "I think I'm   
needed upstairs," the nurse said nervously, and left the room.   
  
Peter looked away something he always did when he didn't want to face   
someone with bad news.   
  
"Dr. Benton?" Carter asked again.   
  
Peter exhaled heavily and looked Carter in the eye. "No, he was taken down   
just for questioning, Carter, but they are bound to charge him," Peter said   
unconvincingly.   
  
"Ah, Dr. Benton." Luka tried to get the other doctor's attention.   
  
"Not now, Dr. Kovac," Peter growled not taking his attention away from   
Carter.   
  
"Dr. Benton," Luka said more forcibly.   
  
Peter whirled around, "What is so important?" Peter questioned.   
  
"Maybe outside," Luka tried to hint.   
  
Noticing that Luka had something pertaining to him, Carter was not amused   
by the over-protectiveness he had somehow garnered from the two doctors.   
"If it has to do with Dr. Logan, Luka, please tell me," Carter implored. "I'm   
suffering from...respiratory problems, not brain damage," Carter explained   
in an annoyed tone. As if to prove his point, he pushed the mask over his   
face and took in as much of a breath as his lungs would allow.   
  
Luka walked over to where Peter was standing and explained his   
presence to both doctors. "All right Carter, I'm sorry if I seemed like I was   
trying to hide something from you. I..." Luka stole a glance with Peter.   
"We...just want to keep you from stressing out too much. However, I hate to   
tell you, but the police have released Dr. Logan for lack of evidence. They   
are arresting Taylor Evans and will hold him for further questioning," Luka   
explained gravely.   
  
"What about Carter's chart? I sent that detective the falsified notes and told   
him to interview Dr. Brooks!" Peter said outraged.   
  
Luka was at a loss as how to calm his colleague, but there was no easy way   
to put his anger to rest. "Detective Burns informed Romano that he would   
submit the chart for some handwriting analysis, but that could take weeks   
because they are so backed up."   
  
Peter paced in the confined space of the ICU area, shaking his fists by his   
sides. "What about Taylor's testimony? Why would he   
incriminate himself just to blame Logan? Shouldn't they at least do a little   
more investigating in an arson case that almost killed four people?" Peter   
yelled to the walls.   
  
"Peter, I don't know why. They said there has to be physical evidence and   
something to collaborate with Taylor's testimony. Unfortunately, Carter's   
accounts of what happened sheds no light on who would have started the   
fire. There are no other witnesses and it will take time to gather physical   
evidence since the fourth and fifth floors are rubble now," Luka tried to say,   
his explanation falling on deaf ears.   
  
Carter shifted in his chair, tired of watching Peter pace up and down in front   
of him. The sight was making him nauseous. It was amazing how America's   
legal system seemed to ground to a halt sometimes, he tried to come up with   
a way in which he could help, but nothing came to mind.   
  
Peter's restlessness was keeping Luka on edge and he didn't want the man's   
inability to control himself to stress out Carter anymore then it did. Carter   
looked absolutely defeated in his chair, and he felt that as a doctor he should   
keep any agitation from interfering with his recovery.   
  
"Peter, why don't you go speak with Romano, he has all the   
information that the detectives gave. He didn't take the news very well   
himself." Luka tried to subtly persuade Peter to leave.   
  
Peter didn't cease his pacing, too caught up in his internal rampage. "What   
do those guys need, a damned confession?" Peter asked everyone in the   
room. Before anyone could react, Peter's pager went off.   
  
"Damn it, it's the ER, 911." Peter looked torn over leaving Carter.   
  
Luka sensing his concern about leaving Carter unmonitored, and   
thought the least he could do was try to keep his mind as ease. "I'll stay until   
Carter gets back in bed," Luka offered.   
  
"I can sit in a chair," Carter said from beneath his mask.   
  
Both men ignored his comment. "Fine, make sure he receives another   
breathing treatment and don't let anyone administer any of his meds without   
you in the room," Peter ordered.   
  
"Dr. Benton, I don't think there will be any more falsified charts, but I'll do it   
anyway," Luka answered, relieved that the surgeon was leaving and taking   
the weight of tension with him.   
  
Peter rubbed his chin contemplatively, and turned to leave. He paused at the   
doorway for a second as he spoke. "Make sure he keeps that mask on, and   
Carter," Peter made eye contact with the younger man, "I made you a   
promise, and I'll find some way to keep it."   
  
Peter disappeared from the room and Carter rubbed his fatigued eyes. How   
was Peter going to deliver something that was totally out of his hands? It   
wasn't his duty to bring Logan to justice, it just doesn't happen that way.   
Carter felt bad enough that he had unknowingly   
triggered the fire, but now Peter blamed himself because Logan wasn't in   
jail. Carter ran his fingers through his hair as his ragged mind tried to   
conjure up some way to help the situation. The Grady Chief had to have an   
Achilles' heel. Of course, how could he do anything, he was having a hard   
enough time getting well, like a patient in the ICU could outsmart Dr.   
Logan. Suddenly, a small smile tugged at   
Carter's face as an idea formed in his head. It was far-fetched and risky, but   
it could work, he thought.   
  
Carter removed his mask for a second to test out his spontaneous   
respirations without aid, while Luka busied himself with his chart. His chest   
felt tight, like someone was squeezing him from the inside. It still burned   
when he drew in a breath and his head felt very   
fuzzy. After several short inhales and exhales, the room began to dance   
around and Carter struggled for more air. He hastily replaced the mask, his   
test completed and took in as much oxygen that was allowed. After   
composing himself, Carter pulled the mask away to speak.   
  
"Hey, Luka," Carter called.   
  
Luka glanced up, a frown across his face. "Carter, put your mask back on   
please."   
  
"I will, but I need you to do me a favor," Carter asked in between breaths. "I   
need you to bring me a couple of things," Carter said, trying to be   
nonchalant.   
  
"What? Do you need a magazine?" Luka asked, happy that he might be able   
to help his friend out.   
  
"No, you see I have this idea," Carter said, his face a mix of seriousness and   
mischief.   
  
"Yeah, what is it?" Luka asked, not knowing what to expect.   
  
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX   
  
It took a lot of persuasion and assurances, but Carter was certain that his   
plan withstood a chance of working. He felt guilty about keeping Peter out   
of it, but if he knew anything for certain, it was that Peter Benton would kill   
him for what he was about to do. As it was, it took quite a bit of   
orchestrating and pleading on his part to get Luka to help him out with his   
plan. Carter did admit that it stood a huge chance of not succeeding, or even   
putting himself in a risky situation, but if it nailed Dr. Logan then it was   
worth a shot.   
  
Carter laid in bed in a sitting up position. His back ached from moving   
around, but he didn't take any extra dosages of pain   
medication. He wasn't stupid, he accepted his normal morphine drip, but he   
couldn't afford an extra dosage if he wanted to remain alert and somewhat   
mobile.   
  
Carter kept a few small things from Luka, knowing he would not   
approve of certain aspects, but Carter had to take a chance. He   
looked up when Luka walked into the room. He did not look very   
comfortable, but he handed Carter the tape recorder.   
  
"Here it is. I hope it is small enough," Luka said, his voice tinged with   
apprehension.   
  
Carter took the device and put it under the sheets. "Were you able to get the   
other items?" Carter questioned the man.   
  
Luka seemed reluctant to produce the things that Carter had   
requested, but he took them out of his lab coat. "Yeah. I am still very   
concerned about this. I know Dr. Benton would be very displeased that I   
aided you in this plan of yours," Luka told him glumly.   
  
Carter took the cell phone and a piece of paper with a phone number on it.   
"Thank you. I can do this, Dr. Kovac, and it will work. I just need you to   
grab me a pair of sweatpants for me; I hate being in this hospital gown,"   
Carter told him.   
  
"Planning on going somewhere?" Luka asked suspiciously.   
  
"I don't think I could if I wanted to, I just want a little dignity." Carter   
replied with a hint of his humor in his voice.   
  
"Okay, I'll find you a pair, but I'll help you put them on," Luka replied.   
  
"Sure," Carter replied with the mask on.   
  
Luka retreated from the room, but he wanted Carter to understand something   
before he left. "I'm only doing this for justice's sake. Benton will kill me if   
anything happens or this backfires. I've seen too many crimes go   
unpunished, but I can live with that if I knew this might get you hurt,   
Carter."   
  
"It won't, Dr. Kovac," Carter replied with confidence.   
  
Luka left and Carter dialed the number on the scrap of paper, waiting for   
someone to pick up on the other end of the line. He willed his hands to stop   
shaking and inhaled as much as he could when he heard the voice on the   
other end.   
  
"Hello," it said.   
  
"Yeah, this is Dr. John Carter."   
  
There was a pause and Carter took the opportunity to breathe from his mask   
that he held in his hand.   
  
"What can I do for you, Dr. Carter," it replied.   
  
"Actually, there is something that you can help me with," Carter said. He   
breathed in more oxygen and placed the phone back to his mouth.   
  
"I want $100,000 dollars for my silence," Carter explained.   
  
"Silence for what?" The voice scoffed.   
  
"$100,000 that I don't tell the cops my side of things and not the story you   
told me when you payed me that little visit."   
  
Another pause, another breath from the mask.   
  
"What makes you think your story matters?" came the annoyed reply.   
  
"You can't take the chance that it could. So far you have gotten away scott   
free, and well, I could really throw a wrench in things." Carter mustered the   
strength for two complete sentences.   
  
Another wave of silence.   
  
"You know that there is no way I can talk to you with guards outside your   
door, Dr. Carter, even if I choose to do so," the voice replied.   
  
"Well, since no one could prove you tried to harm me, there won't be any   
guards at the door," Carter said smoothly, knowing that it was all too true.   
  
"I don't know what you're talking about, Dr. Carter, I would never wish poor   
health on anyone. In fact, I don't think there is any need for a visit, perhaps   
I'll send you some flowers instead."   
  
"Well then, I guess an injured invalid might just have to teach you a lesson,   
Dr. Logan," Carter said through clenched teeth, his voice rising.   
  
"Don't play around with me, kid. I tell you what, let's just discuss the matter   
a bit more tomorrow, whenever I feel like showing up. You make sure   
you're out of the ICU and in a standard room and I'll speak with you. It'll be   
best to wait a day for tempers to cool over   
there," Logan replied smoothly.   
  
"Fine by me." Carter heard the click of the phone, and tossed it in front of   
him. He took another shaky breath and contemplated what he had just done.   
He checked the voice recorder once more and bit his lip. He prayed he hadn't   
just done the stupidest thing in his life.   
  
  
  
To Be contiuned...   
  
  



	2. Lessons Learned Last Half

Here is the last half. I wrote this story a while ago, but a friend of mine told me to post it here. I have others, and will try to post more sometime over the weekend. Thank you for all of your comments. I know this was long, I like a good read, though! Next time after learning how to use this system I'll break it down into small chapters.  
  
Lessons Learned  
By Kristen  
Thanks to Jackie for all of her editing and to Debbie for her medical help.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
His eyes burned. That was the sensation that kept him from drowning in a million twisted thoughts of his own creation. He rubbed at them in his sleep, looking for some form of relief, and retained absolutely no comfort. The haze of the smoke in his dream was engulfing him as he ran down a hallway that never ended. His hand remained wrapped around a smaller, elderly one and he, and Mrs. Cobb navigated blinded through the corridor of dense smoke that was choking them both. As they dodged falling debris and wrestled with declining air, Carter glanced behind his shoulder to see the flames chasing them down unmercifully, but when he looked back to see if Mrs. Cobb was all right, he ended up staring into the frightened face of Lucy Knight.  
  
"Do you know the way out?" She asked.  
  
"Lucy?" Carter asked in a quivering voice, confused and full of sadness.  
  
"We have to get away, Dr. Carter." She implored.  
  
Feelings of paranoia swept through his mind as they valiantly maneuvered through the burning building. He kept a tight grip on Lucy's hand so he wouldn't get lost in the confusion of chaos. But, his eyes burned and the hallway began to spin, he felt Lucy's hand slip from his grasp and Carter stumbled forward as his disorientation grew from the oxygen deprivation.  
  
He looked back over his shoulder at the flames and saw Paul Sobrieki behind him with the butcher knife. Carter screamed as he tried to escape from the man hidden within the shadows and dust clouds. He began to suffocate on the fumes, and could not keep on his feet. He tripped over something and crashed to the floor. Too overcome to bring get to his feet, he dragged himself along the floor to the object that had caused him to fall. Beside him lay Mrs. Cobb and Lucy, helpless on the floor and both dying before his eyes."  
  
As he pulled his body along the floor he touched Mrs. Cobb's lifeless face. He wrung his hand through her long silver hair as he heard Paul creep up behind him.  
  
"There's nothing you can do to redeem yourself, Dr. Carter." A voice said.  
  
Carter looked up at the face peering down at him and saw that it was Dr. Logan with the butcher knife in his hand.  
  
Instead of plunging the blade into his back, Dr. Logan simply laughed at him. His cackling filled the hallway and overcame the thunderous noise of the roof collapsing overhead.  
  
"You're not going to get away with this!" Carter screamed through the black smoke.  
  
Carter bolted up in bed and soon regretted the action. He gritted his teeth as the pain engulfed his left side. He scrunched up his burning eyes and felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. After taking a second to compose himself, he turned his head to see Luka watching him.  
  
"You okay now?" The doctor asked.  
  
Carter laughed under his mask at the rhetorical question. He fitfully rubbed his dry eyes and shrugged his shoulders. Luka felt foolish for asking such a naïve thing, but it was the first thing that came to mind. He recognized the signs of a nightmare and wanted to console the young man if he wanted him to. Noticing his discomfort, Luka searched the contents of his lab coat and pulled out a bottle of eye drops.  
  
"Thought you might be needing these." He said, handing them to Carter.  
  
Carter took them gratefully and answered, "Thanks" as he squeezed the medicine into the source of agitation.  
  
"What to talk about it?" Luka asked sincerely.  
  
"Not really", Carter replied. He took a second to take stock in his current situation.  
  
He was still in the ICU, he was still struggling to breathe at a normal level and he was in the mists of carrying out the craziest thing He had ever done. 'Well not as crazy as going into a burning building,' he mused. He looked back at the Croatian doctor and realized he had never taken the time to thank the man for helping him out of the fiery hellhole and for his actions in the ER.  
  
He slid his mask down to the dismay of the doctor and took a second to collect his voice. "I never properly thanked you for all that you did." Carter told him quietly.  
  
"I did what was needed to be done." Luka replied calmly. Seeing that his answer did not sit well with the man in the bed, Luka decided to elaborate.  
  
He shifted slightly in his chair and looked at the wall before setting his gaze at his colleague.  
  
"I hate fires. Back home, I encountered many blazing businesses, and homes like it was a normal routine. Bombings, shelling, vandals. As the months passed, so did many of the oldest parts of Croatia. My favorite bridge, which had withstood the damage of World War II, does not exist anymore."  
  
Luka stood and leaned his weight on the railing of Carter's bed. "Sometimes one side would start a fire on their own people and then blame it on the enemy to fuel the desire for revenge and death. I tried to save a young girl trapped in a floor above me when I worked in triage and was sent into the field. I didn't save her in time." Luka's grip on the bedrail tightened as he relived the memory.  
  
"Later, I found out it was her neighbor who had set a kerosene bomb in the basement so that he could gain support from the local militia during one the countless peace talks. The fighting began the next day." Luka turned his impassive face to Carter, holding back the depths of sadness and fury that were barely beneath the surface. "No one was ever held accountable for all the countless lives that were lost."  
  
Carter withdrew the mask one more time and stared intently at Luka. "Then help me get out of this room so I can make sure that that someone else doesn't escape prosecution." Carter implored and took another shaky breath.  
  
Luka shook himself from his memory and absorbed Carter' request. "Out of the ICU?" Luka asked with dismay. "You've only been in here for two days."  
  
Carter nodded his head negatively. "I'm out of danger."  
  
"Your stats haven't climbed above 93." Luka challenged.  
  
"My vitals are stable." Carter spoke under the oxygen.  
  
"You're on oxygen, a foley, and we are monitoring your inputs and outputs for a Benzene level." Luka retorted.  
  
Carter slipped the mask down once more. "All of that can done in a normal room.," he argued.  
  
Luka slipped the mask back on and gave Carter a warning stare. Carter ran his hand through his hair wondering if Peter had taught the Luka the unapproving stare of gloom. Not wanting to continue the argument, Carter eyed the brown paper bag with curiosity that was lying next to Luka's feet. He then looked at the doctor expectantion.  
  
Luka had forgotten about his supplies and pulled out a pair of gray Sweatpants and a hospital robe. He couldn't help but chuckle at how large Carter's eyes got at the sight. "I brought these for you, but the deal is that I help you put them on and you walk over and sit in that chair for another half hour." Luka explained as he pushed the railing down.  
  
Carter nodded excitedly, especially at the prospect of getting out of his hospital gown. He pushed the blanket aside and slowly swung his legs around. Luka stood beside him as he carefully put his weight on both feet and gingerly stood, grabbing Luka's shoulder to steady himself.  
  
Luka, mindful of Carter leaning on him, took out the sweat pants and held them open for him. The younger doctor weakly lifted his left leg up and slid it into pants. He then tightened his grip on Luka's shoulder and the other man grabbed Carter's left elbow as he put all his weight on his weak left leg and inserted his right leg into the pants.  
  
His body trembled, but both legs were on the ground now. Before pulling the sweats up, Luka taped the foley to Carter's leg then pulled the material to the man's waist. Luka wheeled the IV stand after securing the oxygen tank to the bottom the pole as the other man moved slowly towards the chair. He kept his hand on Luka's shoulder and the foreign doctor kept his right hand under Carter's left elbow. Luka noticed how changing into his new attire had tired his friend, but he seemed determined to reach the chair. Gently Luka lowered him into his seat, and Carter breathed heavily into the mask.  
  
"Hmmm, maybe another day before switching rooms, no?" Luka questioned the wheezing patient.  
  
"No!" Carter adamantly replied.  
  
Luka rubbed his chin absently and slowly understood Carter's mood. "You spoke to him, didn't you?" He asked. When Carter looked way, Luka knew his answer. "He wants you to transfer to a more secluded location."  
  
"Its hard to be...secluded in...a hospital." Carter retorted.  
  
Luka shook his head. "I don't like it, and Dr. Benton will never agree with it", he stated.  
  
When he saw the doctor stare at him with a mischievous expression, Luka rolled his eyes and grunted. "No. You can't be serious?"   
  
He watched Carter's eyes gleam and he moaned some more. "You want me to convince him?" Luka unhappily asked  
  
Carter innocently gazed at Luka and nodded.  
  
"Since when did your name change from Dr. Carter to Detective Carter?" Luka asked humorlessly as the subject of their conversation walked into the room.  
  
"Afternoon, Peter." Luka said as the surgeon grabbed Carter's chart and flipped through it. The Croatian exchanged looks with his patient, 'no Peter's patient' he reminded himself.  
  
"Um, Dr. Benton, Dr. Carter would like to be transferred to a regular room." Luka ventured to say.  
  
Peter stole a look with Luka and gave him an expression of bewilderment then one he gave students when they asked if they could perform a procedure.  
  
"Dr. Carter," Peter glanced over at the man in question, "May what a lot of things, but I'm not here to do only what he likes." He responded stonily.  
  
Carter began to remove his mask, but Peter quickly fastened it back on. "Carter, leave that mask on or I'll put a non-breather on you so fast..."  
  
"Dr. Benton, Carter's vitals are stable, the Benzene is almost out of his system. He doesn't require anything from the ICU room that can't be provided in a standard one." Luka explained.  
  
Peter avoided the resident's eye and stared a hole in the man in the chair who nodded in agreement to every one of Luka's points. "Well, that's all good, Dr. Kovac, but I'm in charge of Carter's care and I don't want to transfer him for another day or so.  
  
"Now if you two are done questioning my orders, I'd lie to examine my patient." Peter grumbled.  
  
Tired of being ignored, Cater voiced his opinion through his breathing device. "I don't want to stay in here, Dr. Benton. Give the bed to someone who needs it."  
  
Peter crossed his arms in his usual defiant manner. "Since when were you put in charge of your own care and in the position to question my orders?" Peter asked his voice cold.  
  
"Maybe Carter's right..." Luka began to say.  
  
Peter whirled around. "Dr. Kovac, outside now!" Peter pointed to the door and watched Luka's face transform from annoyance to anger. He glared at the surgeon and stomped out with Benton hot at his heels.  
  
Carter for his part, felt horrible for putting Luka in such a tough spot. He also regretted causing a bit of friction between himself and Peter. He was partially doing this to let his mentor off the hook, and ease the surgeon's guilt about what happened in the ER by putting the person responsible for their nightmare behind bars. The ringing of his cell phone interrupted Carter's ruminations.  
  
It was laying on the right side of the bed and Carter panicked at the thought that Benton might pick up the phone if he heard it. As quickly as his body would allow, Carter stood up on his own. The phone was still ringing as he scrabbled towards the bed, dragging his stubborn left leg.  
  
His body felt weak and Carter wavered to the right as he struggled to remain upright. It was difficult to move at all, but he dragged the IV pole behind him, then simply stretched all the lines as he reached for the gurney. His left leg gave out under his weight when he collapsed onto the bed. He reached out for the railing on the opposite side ignoring screaming muscles. Carter used the metal bar to pull himself over the mattress as the insistent ringing egged him on. He Pulled his mask off then grabbed the cell phone and flipped it open with his right hand.  
  
"Hello." He wheezed.  
  
"I didn't catch you at a bad time did I, Dr. Carter?" Logan's voice asked.  
  
Carter closed his eyes as he rode the protests of his strained back. "Not at all."  
  
"Good. Did you get yourself transferred?"  
  
"I'm about to." Carter wheezed as he realized both his hands were occupied and he couldn't pull his oxygen back on.  
  
"Can't do anything right, Dr. Carter? Well, what you have to say couldn't possibly be that damaging." Logan's voice taunted.  
  
"Too scared to find out?" Carter rasped.  
  
There was a pause.  
  
Fine, if you're not there tomorrow then I'll take my chances," Logan Replied, then hung up.  
  
Carter clicked the phone off and tried to pull himself up, but was too exhausted to do so. He felt his strength ebb away and was afraid he would fall into a heap on the floor. He simply could not get his muscles to work properly and he sagged against the gurney.  
  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
As soon as Luka exited room 111, the doctor next to him grabbed his arm to get his attention. Startled by the rough action, Luka pulled back and fixed Peter Benton with the same fiery stare as he was receiving at the moment from the man.  
  
"What the hell were you trying to do back there, Dr, Kovac!" Peter demanded of the doctor.  
  
Peter was more than furious, he was outright steaming mad. It was hard enough to be Carter's primary physician and having to force him to follow his strict orders. He didn't need now to have Luka Kovac to undermining his instructions. Carter was stubborn and it was hard enough to get him to cooperate as it was. Peter wanted the younger man to stay put, under many watchfully eyes, for his own safety. Peter continued to face the other doctor down; disgruntled that he had not received a prompt answer.  
  
Luka rubbed his hand over his jaw. "I don't know what your problem is, Dr. Benton.  
  
He's stable enough to be transferred to a standard room. His blood pressure and heart rate are good and the Benzene is dropping to minimal levels."  
  
Peter shook his head as the other physician spoke to him, not wanting to trust such an optimistic picture.  
  
"Yeah and his pulse ox is till unacceptable and his respirations are far below normal levels."  
  
"All of which can be treated with oxygen and further Abertrol treatments. It does not dictate a stay in the ICU," Luka interrupted.  
  
"What about the fact that he can be monitored closely by a few select people?  
  
In his weakened condition he's going to have to stay here for at least a week until his lungs heal and he's able to have a normal range of mobility," Peter retorted.  
  
Luka understood where Peter was coming from. The staff was wary from what had transpired in the ICU, and despite a heightened state of awareness no one could keep an eye on Carter all the time.  
  
Luka had also played a part in Carter's plan to outwit Logan. He knew despite all the steps that could be taken by the police and the staff at County that there were still two problems.  
  
Logan was allowed to walk away escaping prosecution and he posed a decent threat to Carter unless the young man could do something about it. Luka was apprehensive about Carter's new found idea he was some sort of detective now, but if the police were unable to gather evidence Carter thought it was up to him to get solid proof the man's guilt.  
  
Luka choose his next words carefully. "I really think that Carter can receive a proper level of care in a normal room. There is no medical reason for him to remain in the ICU.  
  
The guards will have to leave today now that the investigation into his doctored chart is on hold till those handwriting experts take a look at things."  
  
Peter was still very unhappy, even if Luka's words did ring true. Carter could be transferred it was just too soon after he had been in such critical condition a few days before. The dreadful memory in the ER was still ingrained in his head, a vivid image that kept him from getting any decent sleep the last two days. As a doctor, he knew that it was a daily occurrence for patients that were so extremely critical one day to be transferred to a normal room mere days later. It was just that this particular patient was not just a name on a chart. Peter was paranoid over the way trouble seemed to be hunting Carter down as of late and he felt that his former student needed some extra looking after.  
  
He made certain promises and assurances and they were now completely out of reach. His word was going to fall short and Peter felt very uneasy at lacking any kind of control over the situation. Peter bit down on his lip and dug his hands into the pockets of his scrubs.  
  
"I think that I know what is best for my patient," Peter said gruffly.  
  
"And I think Carter would appreciate it, if for once, we trusted him." Gaining an unyielding look, Luka continued, "John Carter is a grown man capable of making decisions for himself. If we hover around him, he is just going to push harder to appear normal, no?"  
  
"Dr. Kovac, I am not hovering." Peter's emphasis on his words told Luka how offended the man was over the accusation.  
  
"What do you call it, then?" Luka stabbed back. Sighing. a bit Luka relented.  
  
Inside he was chastising himself. For what he could tell, Peter Benton was acting like someone who was concerned for another, admitting in his own little way a friendship for a colleague and Luka didn't want to ruin such progress.  
  
"Fine." Peter scrunched up his face and look away. "We'll transfer him after one more examination. Once I'm satisfied that he's stable enough then we'll move him."  
  
Peter headed for the door and halted for a moment. "By the way, Dr. Kovac, I've known Carter a little longer then you have. I don't need a lecture concerning what's best for him."  
  
Peter brushed past the other doctor and re-entered Carter's room. When he walked in, he saw the empty chair and a very winded man, half sprawled on a bed, vainly trying to not fall off.  
  
"Carter what the Hell are you doing?"  
  
Peter exclaimed, as he carefully put his hand on Carter's back to keep him from slipping from the gurney while at the same time grabbing a hold of his sweatpants to pull his uncooperative legs onto bed.  
  
Carter settled onto his back, still wheezing slightly from the effort, and trying to ignore Benton's thunderous gaze.  
  
When Carter heard the door open, he quickly stuffed the phone under the blankets, hoping he had not been completely caught. He turned his head, already thinking about what to say to avoid another lecture.  
  
When Peter recognized the signs of another explanation, he cut the man short. "I don't want to hear any excuses right now, Carter. I don't think you could come up with a satisfying reason as to why you decided to return to bed unaided."  
  
Peter did not know what made him more angry, the fact that Carter was disregarding his orders or the fact the man was ignoring his tirade. "Fine, Carter, you want to move to a normal room, try acting like a normal patient.  
  
You're a fine doctor in the ER, but you are under my care now. If you don't want your every step monitored then stop garnering such attention." Peter finished his speech and checked all the machines in the room. After getting satisfactory readings, he walked away, spouting off orders as he retreated. "You can examine him, Dr. Kovac. If you deem him fit for a transfer, then go ahead and arrange it."  
  
Carter watched in disappointment as Peter left the room, leaving him alone with Luka. He swallowed painfully and gazed at the ceiling already knowing how many tiles were there. He had somehow disappointed his mentor and now was going ahead with a plan that was bound to infuriate Benton.  
  
At the same time, Carter could not help thinking this was the only way to put This tragedy behind him, and release Peter from a promise he could not fulfill.  
  
"Carter, you doing all right?" Luka asked, squeezing the younger man's shoulder.  
  
All he got was unconvincing nod. "You couldn't just wait for us to come back?" Luka asked with a hint of unbridled humor.  
  
Carter answered his question by pulling out the phone and looking him in the eyes while adjusting his mask.  
  
"I see. Got a phone call, did you?" Again, Carter remained withdrawn and simply repeated his last gesture.  
  
"So, I guess everything is set up then?" Luka asked tentatively.  
  
"Yeah," Carter rasped under the mask.  
  
"You can still change your mind. I could go get Dr. Benton." Luka tried to reason with him."  
  
"No!" Carter forcibly refused.   
  
Knowing he wouldn't be able to convince him otherwise, Luka wordlessly completed Carter's examination.  
  
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx Next Day 8:00 am  
  
The transfer had gone smoothly, and now Carter lay in bed, staring up at similar, but still boring, ceiling tiles. This time the oxygen was being administered from behind him and he was still hooked up to an IV and catheter, but he at least had lost the central line. His pulse ox had not improved enough to go on a regular nasal canal, and the annoying mask was still necessary to provide oxygen to his weakened lungs.  
  
Carter ran his hand along his face, noticing with annoyance the stubble that had began to grow. He wished that could shave himself. But after noting how shaky his hands were, he guessed that he had better wait, or let someone else handle the task.  
  
The guilt of keeping Peter in the dark about his scheming was still grating at his thoughts, but he was tired of being manipulated by things that were out of his control, and for once he was going to have a hand in how things played out.  
  
His chest still ached from labored breathing and he once again traced his fingers where two paddles had sent jolt of electrical shock through just three days earlier. His heart had stopped beating, his life had ceased to be, and all of it was returned to him by electric current and drug stimulants.  
  
He closed his eyes and tried to ignore the dreadful images that must have been ingrained in the minds of his friends and the old familiar feeling of guilt gnawed away at him.  
  
"No, not again." He muffled through the mask.  
  
"No, not what again, Dr. Carter?" Romano asked, strolling in with an Abertrol treatment in his hands.  
  
"Dr. Romano, what are you doing here?' Carter asked, startled through his mask.  
  
"Dr. Carter, you shouldn't be speaking. I saw you were on this floor and thought I'd personally bring you your breathing treatment. You know, let the therapist take a break," Romano said in his usual falsely cheerful voice.  
  
Carter sat up straight as Romano brought him the device to breathe. He slipped his mask off and sucked on the tube to breath in the fumes that Were designed to heal his lungs even though they made him cough uncontrollably, and in turn, cause him a great deal of pain.  
  
While Carter took on the tedious job, Romano took it upon himself to speak to the doctor while he was unable to respond. "Now, Dr. Carter, I just wanted to let you know we are doing everything within our power to make sure that the investigation doesn't go the way of the Dodo."  
  
Carter weakly nodded as he struggled on the spirameter thatnow was causing his lungs to seize up on him.  
  
"I wanted to let you personally know that I'll be contacting some important people in the D.A's office about how inadequate those detectives have been." Romano paused to make sure the other doctor was listening to him. "I also want you to know that I sent you to Grady to keep an eye on you."  
  
Romano's voice quivered only so slightly. He looked away as he spoke his thoughts. "I'm sorry that I simply did not instruct Kerry to monitor your progress or speak to your doctor about your recovery. That was my lapse. In my need to address some issues from last February, I took it upon myself to personally take part in your struggles, at work and for that I'm sorry."  
  
Romano gazed at Carter intently, his face a chiseled look of seriousness. "And if for some reason that Dr. Logan slips through the cracks of justice, then you can hold be responsible for any of the trauma that you have endured this week."  
  
Silence permutated the room and Carter was too shocked to respond even if he had not been receiving the breathing therapy. He had stopped sucking in the medicine halfway through Romano's speech, too stunned to speak. He opened his mouth to say something, anything but was wracked with coughs from the therapy treatment. He clutched at his chest in the same way he did after every treatment, riding out the streaks of pain that lanced through his body.  
  
"And another thing, I heard it was your bright idea to be moved to a standard room, Dr. Carter. Do me a favor and don't suggest something so stupid again, okay? It's bad enough that Peter is chomping at the bit concerning that bastard, and I don't need him even more grouchy than usual because he's more concerned about your transfer down here than your stay in the ICU."  
  
A repository therapist entered the room, and Romano turned to her, a perfect reflection of his authoritative self.  
  
"Dr. Carter still needs about fifteen more minutes on his treatment. Now, I have some administrative duties to attend to." With that Romano left as quickly as he entered.  
  
Carter was still too surprised to react to the Chief's lecture, let alone his words of apology. He was even more upset that he was causing Dr. Benton more undue tension concerning his room change.  
  
Carter did not have time to ponder the course of events. After his breathing treatment and a half hour bout of coughing, he was once again exhausted, and he fell into a fitful sleep.  
  
Carter never noticed Peter walking in to check his vitals first hand, and to flip through his chart. The surgeon then stood there in the room for a moment, watching Carter's chest rise and fall ever so slowly.  
  
Carter didn't need to see how tired Peter felt, or even know that he was unable to even take a nap because he was always jerked awake by the sound of a cardiac monitor's steady drone of an absent heartbeat. Satisfied that all appeared normal, Peter silently left, with Carter none the wiser, just like Peter wanted.  
  
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
The sensation of being watched was something that was hard to describe. It was a tingling sensation that tickled the mind and a paranoid sensation all at the same time. Carter woke up suddenly and bolted straight up in the bed. That was a bad idea as his back protested the movement and strained muscles caused him to gasp. He closed his dry eyes and rubbed his eyelids using his sleeve. He searched the room for the source of awareness and was greeted by an empty room.  
  
He tried to fight an overwhelming desire to be anywhere but flat on his back. Carter internally grimaced at the thought of more sermons, but he felt extremely uncomfortable and vulnerable. Slowly, he slid his legs off the bed, and he sat there a few seconds, letting his feet hit the ground. He took the robe off the corner of his little table and put it on, then took the cell phone from under his pillow and slipped it into one of the pockets, resting it beside the tape recorder he had left there. Carter willed his body to move and he carefully stood up. He kept his hand on the railing just in case he felt dizzy, but he experienced only some slight light-headedness and it quickly dissipated.  
  
Carter then methodically took a step and followed it with another and shuffled his way to the chair next to the bed. He was in the process of settling himself into the seat when a familiar voice rang though the air.  
  
"You're looking well, Dr. Carter. Now don't feel you have to stand on my account." Logan's icy voice echoed from the bathroom.  
  
Startled, Carter griped his IV pole and steadied himself as he was determined to remain standing. His body slightly trembled, but he fought the weakness and stared at Logan undaunted.  
  
"I'm here, John, now would you mind telling me what it is that you think can possible motivate me to give you money?" Logan asked calmly, a smirk upon his face.  
  
Carter dug his hand into the pocket of his robe and clicked on the tape recorder. He brought his hand nonchalantly out of his robe and grabbed hold of the pole again when he wavered. Slowly he slid his mask off.  
  
"I know you set Grady on fire and I can prove it." Carter shuddered, and took a shallow breath freely. "And you're going to pay for my silence."  
  
  
next  
  
  
Logan strode over to Carter and stood merely inches from the man. He said nothing, remaining motionless and clearly enjoying the impact of his presence upon Carter. The Chief of Staff let his eyes wander around the room as if to assure himself that they were indeed the only two people present.   
  
Logan watched Carter's chest heave in an obvious effort to control his nervous breathing. For Carter's part, he remained standing, tightening his grip on the IV pole. 'Slow and easy breaths,' quickly became his mantra. His legs protested at the strain of being on his feet for so long, and small tremors shook him slightly. He ignored it all, though, shielding his pain and reflecting only a mask of calmness and control.   
  
"As Chief, you have control over all supply orders," Carter announced and sucked in another shallow breath.   
  
Logan raised his eyebrows in amusement and chuckled. "Dr. Carter, I'm a bit too busy with hospital business to keep up with supply orders. All of that is handled through the proper channels; that I never see. A Chief of Staff would, how should I say? Never go near something so mundane." Logan dramatically sighed and his smiled broadened. "However, dear doctor, entertain me."   
  
"As chief you can arrange," he paused, "for things such as Benzene to..." Carter unsuccessfully tried to draw in more air. "To be stored wherever you want without question."   
  
Logan admired his manicured fingernails, completely ignoring the person struggling to breathe in front of him.   
  
"I bet when we recover equipment logs, we'll find-" deep gasp, "your signature on a purchase order...for four extra containers of Benzene." Carter's voice became scratchy and his throat felt parched. He swallowed uneasily and tried valiantly to refrain from swaying. He felt slightly lightheaded, but he continued his speech. Carter saw Logan's expression twitch slightly, but it remained cool and composed.   
  
"Wouldn't want to raise suspicions among the staff if," a pause, "some of the normal supply...had some missing," Carter managed to say in between labored breaths.   
  
Logan turned to pace along the side of the gurney, his back to Cater. The doctor took advantage of this and took in a puff of oxygen from his mask. The perimeters of his vision started to become blurry and he was having trouble focusing.   
  
The Chief of Staff walked along to the other side of the gurney, a smug look on his face and strode back to his original position. He toyed with the tubing of Carter's oxygen and smiled at the younger man as he let it slip back down. "Oh, sorry, I was distracted, go on," Logan said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.   
  
Carter felt he did not have time to bait the man as carefully as he had originally planned; he needed to attack his weakness and strike quickly. "So, where were you during the fire?" he asked, switching tactics.   
  
Logan glanced up the doctor and rubbed his mustache thoughtfully. "I was eating lunch across the street. Told those detectives this as well, they seemed satisfied," he replied.   
  
"Anyone verify that?" Carter asked. He shifted his weight when he felt his left leg shake slightly, the once-slight tremors increasing in frequency and persistence. Before Logan could respond, Carter pressed on. "I think you were," gasp, "busy turning on the air conditioning." Carter's chest hitched slightly as he struggled for air. He fought off several coughs and cleared his throat.   
  
Logan laughed out loud and stepped closer to Carter, invading the resident's personal space. His intrusion caused Carter to back up against the wall where he unconsciously leaned his weight for support. This did not escape Logan, neither did the death grip the younger man had on his IV pole. It appeared as if he wouldn't remain on his feet for very long. Logan just inched closer, his hot breath blowing in Carter's face.   
  
Carter felt his heart race and his head began to pound. "I think...the police...might...want to dust...the circuit breakers...for your prints," He panted, then swallowed again. "Since...the Chief...wouldn't ever...go down there. Kind of ...beneath your position."   
  
Logan's eyes peered into Carter's. "Sorry, doc doesn't prove a thing." Logan turned and headed for the door.   
  
Carter was furious, but he channeled the energy towards his deteriorating voice. He stepped away from the wall and grabbed the railing of the bed. He dragged himself painfully after Logan, stumbling a bit, but persistently heading after him. He grabbed the mask that hung around his neck and took in a deep breath, knowing that it wouldn't replenish his draining energy.   
  
"You failed, Dr. Logan!" Carter's rough, gravely voice yelled.   
  
Logan froze in his tracks. Feeling the tide change, Carter mustered a taunting tone. "You failed as a chief, you failed to keep your own hospital open, you failed to burn it all down--you let--" Carter placed both hands on the bed to keep himself upright watching Logan, seeing his hands clench into a fist. "You let...let a cripple... ruin your plans." Carter clutched at the pain in his chest, certainly from oxygen depravation. "You're pathetic, a complete failure," Carter mustered a bit of pity in his voice. How the mighty reacted to the sting of shame.   
  
Logan spun around, the veins on his forehead prominent from the rage welling from within. Carter smiled and nearly laughed at the site in front of him. Button after button being pushed, just how Logan had done to him a few days earlier.   
  
"You. Little. Son of a Bitch." Logan spat his words venomously. His face was a shade of red that Carter didn't know existed. "I burned that place down with ease. Those fucks on the Board thought they could close MY hospital down!" Logan exclaimed.   
  
He took several steps closer, his hands waving in the air uncontrollably. "I ran Grady with an iron fist, and if she was going to be closed then I would turn her into ashes and your bumbling ass happened to get in the way. I'm sorry you and that old bitch didn't burn in the fire so that at least, people would learn a thing or two about hand holding fucking cripples. I'm glad that you were injured back in February. I think the only thing keeping this world from being perfect was that freak didn't do the job right." Logan's rage was unwavering, he bored a hole into the shaking resident with the evil in his eyes. He smiled when he saw Carter flounder and kept himself from falling by grabbing the small table beside him.   
  
After catching himself, he heard a clanking sound echo on the tile as his tape recorder fell out of the pocket of his robe. It landed by his feet and Carter fearfully stole a glance at Logan. The Chief was, by all accounts, shocked at the site of the recording device. He saw the man's expression change from surprise, to fear, to intense hatred.   
  
"Fucking bastard!" Logan screamed as he lunged for the device.   
  
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX   
  
Peter Benton tiredly walked down the hallway. He had notes to take on several patients in recovery, but he wanted to stop by to see Carter. He knew he was a bit hard on the doctor, but the wall was back up and he didn't feel the need to coddle him. He wanted Carter to recover fully this time, but he was just so damned worried. Benton would not allow himself to be caught off guard again along Carter's road back to good health. Dr. Kovac's speech still ran through his head. Carter was independent, and it seemed he hated to be perceived any differently. He always just wanted to be treated with respect by his peers and desperately sought it from him.   
  
Peter Benton did not have friends. He knew co-workers; he had his sister, and his wonderful son. Never did he try nor want any friends. That required effort, time, and somewhat who gave a damn. His life had changed when his son was born; it was given new meaning and perspective. There was more to life then cutting open patients and fixing them. He listened to patients more, and he even struggled to be somewhat sensitive. Maybe it was time to invest time with others to realize the bonds of friendship. Maybe.   
  
It might, possibly...it could be fun. Peter grimaced slightly at the thought. All right maybe it wouldn't be so bad. He wouldn't advertise the fact or anything. Carter's parents were too busy to appreciate their son, which was sad. Both of Benton's own parents were dead, and what he wouldn't give to have any of that time back. How could two people care so little about there son? Why did it take Carter's near death experience for Peter to realize he cared, or even have the desire to express the fact?   
  
`Guilt, guilt never accomplished anything,' Peter thought. Words were never his strong point, but he would change that with action and practice. He would just start anew, nothing sweeping. He wasn't going to have a movie night or anything, but maybe he should start being involved in other interests beside his own. Maybe he could be a better friend. Peter smiled inwardly as he approached Carter's room.   
  
"Dr. Benton," a nerve-grating voice stopped Peter.   
  
Peter lowered his head in exasperation, wondering what he had done to deserve to be Rocket Romano's personal pet project of annoyance.   
  
"Yeah, Robert?" Peter asked.   
  
"Come on, we need to go downstairs to speak with a contact of mine in the D.A's office." Romano gestured for Peter to follow.   
  
"Come on, we don't have all day, and Dr. Carter isn't going anywhere," Romano told the surgeon impatiently.   
  
Grudgingly, Peter turned and followed his boss, pondering what the first step would be with his newfound outlook on his life.   
  
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX   
  
Carter had enough sense to kick the recorder under the bed as Logan made a violent grab for it. Logan growled menacingly when the device disappeared beneath the gurney. His nostrils flaring and riding on a wave of pure rage, Logan grabbed Carter by his robe and shook him hard.   
  
"You stupid son of a bitch!" Logan hissed into Carter's face and dug his thumb into the younger man's throat. He pressed hard on the windpipe, as Carter struggled to pry it off, as what little air he was able to take in was being cut off.   
  
Logan continued to compress his throat, effectively dropping Carter to his knees, and watched as his left arm weakly lashed out.   
  
Knowing he was suffocating, Carter balled his right fist, and with all his remaining strength, drove it into his assailant's groin. Logan screamed in pain as a piercing fire shot through him. Out of desperation, he fumbled with the oxygen line, snapping it off as he tumbled to the ground, bringing Carter crashing down on top of him.   
  
Carter crumbled and landed painfully. His throat throbbed, his back seized into an uncontrollable spasm, he desperately gasped for breath, only able to inhale inadequate amounts of air. He cried out as he scrambled off of the man clutching at his groin in pain. Carter crawled agonizingly on the floor in search of his mask. He felt like he had been kicked in hard in the groin himself, and saw little droplets of blood on the floor; he had pulled the catheter out in the fall.   
  
Logan, in obvious agony, pulled himself to his hands and knees and inched by the edge of the bed. He searched for the elusive tape recorder, and his fingers slipped around the device upon discovery.   
  
Carter clutched at the head of the bed and tried to pull himself up, as Logan used the middle of the gurney and gingerly gathered himself into a standing position. Logan maintained a fierce grip on the tape recorder, and mercilessly brought it down on the younger doctor's skull, slamming the small device onto the side of Carter's head, cracking it in the process.   
  
Carter felt the tape recorder smash over his head and a sharp pain rocketed through his skull. It toppled him onto the bed and he felt blood trickling down the side of his face. Carter saw Logan's hand out of the corner of his eye, ready to bring the broken device down on him once more. Unwilling to continue to be pummeled, Carter reached out towards the only object in reach, the IV pole. He twisted around excruciatingly, but with both hands slammed the metal rod over Logan's own head. The upper hooks of the IV stand connected squarely with Logan's forehead.   
  
Logan collapsed to the ground, dropping the now-useless tape recorder. The force of the blow appeared to have knocked him out cold, and Carter collapsed to the floor in relief, his body unable to continue functioning with lack of oxygen. He lay helpless on the floor, fighting for air, his lungs still too injured to take in the adequate amounts. He was too weak, but thankfully unable to register all the pain he was feeling. Using his fingers, Carter unsuccessfully tried to drag himself over to where the oxygen mask lay, just out of reach. His hands shook and his chest burned, but he couldn't move across the floor fast enough.   
  
He imagined himself as a fish out of water, gasping loudly, unable to breathe at all. The room began to spin and his head felt like it was about to explode. The last thing he heard clearly was a loud exclamation of a male voice, followed by a series of shouts.   
  
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX   
  
Luka found every excuse in the book to wander over to Carter's room. He would stop momentarily and listen for any disturbances, shouts, alarms, anything. The same thing, silence, already greeted him. 'This was good,' he reasoned. It meant that there wasn't any trouble; there wasn't any need for concern. The doctor would stroll over to the nurse's station, casually inquiring about other patients and would happen to ask about Carter. He always got the same answer: he was doing fine, no new visitors, and then Luka would leave to cover the ER.   
  
He was nervous, but Carter had insisted that he should avoid the area just in case he spooked Logan away or was spotted. Luka did not know what to worry about more, the possibility of Dr. Logan having made it over to County, or whether Peter Benton would figure out what was going on. In the latter case, Luka knew that both he and Carter would soon know the true definition of wrath. The Croatian knew that Carter was going to confront the Chief with his theories and evidence, in hopes of intimidating a confession, but he was still suspicious. The resident was keeping something from him, and now he was going out of his mind with worry and unease.   
  
Luka had had it. Deciding it was time to check up on him, he spotted a fatigued Peter walking in his direction, his mind obviously elsewhere. He didn't notice him standing there.   
  
"I was just heading over to his room," Luka stated to get the surgeon's attention.   
  
Peter glanced over at him and walked with Luka towards their mutual destination. "Same here."   
  
Luka thought it odd that he need not mention the patient's name in question, but was a bit reassured that the other doctor did not have the same demeanor towards him as he did earlier. Both men were nearing the room when they heard a crash and the sounds of a struggle.   
  
As soon as it seemed that something very wrong was happening, Peter ran to the room and swung the door open violently. He didn't even pause, but barged into he room and yelled as he entered.   
  
"Get security in here, now!" Peter screamed upon seeing two bodies on the floor. At first, Benton didn't know how to react, so he simply followed his instinct.   
  
He ran over to Carter, who lay sprawled on the floor, his arm weakly reaching for something out of view. Peter checked to see that Luka Kovac was attending to the other man on the floor so he wouldn't have to worry about pounding the doctor. Peter noticed Carter's desperate gasps for air and the blood running down his face. He ran over to the head of the bed. He gently pulled Carter into a sitting position and leaned over to grab an additional line. He bent down and quickly placed the mask over Carter's face.   
  
Carter drew in breath after shuddering breath, unable to control his rapid respirations. His body felt as if it could not inhale in the oxygen fast enough, causing him to cough violently.   
  
Peter wrapped his left arm around John's shoulder. "Calm down, man, slow deep breaths," Benton encouraged him in hushed tones. "Don't hyperventilate." He wrapped his arm around Carter's shoulder, subconsciously encouraging the man to relax against him.   
  
His body exhausted, Carter sagged onto Peter's side as he slowed his breathing down. He tried not to gulp down the oxygen as he battled the pain in his chest. His body did not react well to being deprived of air and then hyperventilation. He began to relax, and closed his eyes. Once his immediate concern had been attended to, his temple began to throb, a reminder of the violent blow it received.   
  
Peter took his eyes off Carter for a second and observed Luka's ministrations of his friend's attacker. His anger was palpable as his mind flared with violent thoughts. When he first saw the blood on Carter's face, the rational, physician side of him that wanted to help his friend battled with his need to beat the hell out of Logan.   
  
Luka glanced up at the surgeon. "He's semi-conscious, but his vitals are stable." The doctor pushed the IV stand away that lay strewn on the floor. "Looks like Carter hit him with the pole."   
  
"Good," was Peter's only response.   
  
Luka looked at him with surprise and slowly accepted the anger and hurt behind the words. Security quickly arrived with Mark Greene and Malik.   
  
"What the hell happened?" Mark asked upon seeing both Dr. Logan and Carter visibly injured.   
  
"I don't know, Mark, but we need you, please," Luka beseeched and moved around so that the doctor could help him lift Logan onto the stretcher.   
  
Peter ignored Mark and Malik as they hurried in, and with the help of the guards, placed Logan on a backboard. The surgeon gently prodded the side of Carter's head to survey the extent of the gash and bleeding.   
  
"Are you hurt anywhere else?" Peter asked his friend as he took his pulse along side Carter's neck.   
  
Carter shook his head and grimaced as it aggravated his headache.   
  
Peter watched as Malik, Greene, and Luka situated their new patient, and noticed that the man was waking up. Unable to contain his rage, he yelled. "You weren't satisfied at falsifying charts, so you came in here to finish the job?" Peter bellowed at Logan.   
  
Logan held onto his head as spoke, ignoring the watchful eyes of two security officers. "This son of a bitch tried to threaten me and I defended myself against his attack."   
  
"Yeah, Carter is real violent man," Mark replied sarcastically. "Luka, you want to take him? I think Dave is available for an assist."   
  
"Dr. Greene," Luka said getting the senior doctor's attention.   
  
Mark looked at him, and spotted the broken tape recorder on the floor. The attending bent down and retrieved the shattered device. He pried open the part that held tape in and a cassette fell out. Mark pondered the object, as it was clear it was still in perfect condition. He shared a meaningful glance with Luka, and eyed Carter with a curious stare.   
  
The younger man looked back with a hint of a victorious expression, and gasped, "Proof," before he began another coughing fit.   
  
Mark saw Benton's eyebrows rise in interest and he heard Logan start cussing away as he was hauled into the hallway. "That's my fucking tape, give it back!" Mark smiled when he heard the guards intervene to quiet the man down as he was taken away to be treated.   
  
Mark cleared away the IV pole and spotted a small trickle of blood on the floor. He walked over to Peter and crouched down with the both of them. "Carter, do you know where this blood is from?"   
  
Peter, who had been busy trying to console the young man, eyed the drops of blood with concern. "He should be moved and examined. He needs to be sutured and I want a CT of his head," Peter decided.   
  
Mark peered down at Carter. "Are you experiencing any pain elsewhere?" Carter nodded in his response and Mark squeezed his hand. "All right we'll get you thoroughly checked out. Did he hit you anywhere else?" Mark asked trying to rule out injuries. Carter responded by shaking his head again.   
  
"Okay, we need to move you to the bed, so I'm going to help you stand up. Now, I know you probably strained you back, so I'll be as gentle as possible," Mark explained.   
  
"No, I want a backboard, I don't think it is a good idea to move him," Peter interjected.   
  
Mark locked eyes with the surgeon and decided to overrule him. "Peter, we can look at him in here. I don't want to cause more drama by moving him back out into the ER where he might encounter a little more stress." Mark looked at Peter, hoping the man would understand that the last thing that Carter needed was to be the center of attention in this situation. They could use the bed in the room to wheel him to any tests, and Mark was pretty certain that Carter had been knocked around, but not seriously hurt.   
  
Peter relented after a good deal of consideration. He didn't want to deal with the police, or Logan, or anybody at this point and time.   
  
Mark took a few steps back, but remained close to assist the surgeon. Peter slowly stood, pulling Carter up from behind. He let the doctor lean against him and supported him from underneath his arms. Slowly he helped him walk a few steps to the bed where he was lowered down again. Peter spotted a few traces of blood staining his sweatpants and concluded that his catheter had been pulled out in the struggle. Once he was settled down, Mark did a cursory examination. He used his penlight and observed Carter's pupils, while Peter hooked up a blood pressure cuff.   
  
"Heart rate and BP are normal," Peter announced.   
  
Carter lay quietly as both doctors prodded him and continued to ask yes and no questions. Malik had wandered in as a crowd gathered at the door. The male nurse scattered the worried staff after receiving "the stare" from both doctors. Peter had placed a bandage on the side of Carter's head and was applying pressure to it.   
  
"All right, let's get him prepped for a head CT, and I want to make sure nothing happened as a result of the dramatic foley removal. Then, after the tests, I'll suture him," Peter informed Malik. Peter peered down at his patient, who had remained silent during both doctor's ministrations.   
  
"Then, Carter, I want you to tell me what the hell happened and how the hell you got a hold of a cassette recorder." There was no room for argument in that tone.   
  
Carter actually felt bad enough to look a bit sheepish at the disapproving look he was receiving from both co-workers. He pulled out a cell phone and handed it to Mark, and shrugged when the attending gave him a curious stare.   
  
"I don't even want to know," Mark said as Peter sighed heavily.  
  
  
next  
  
  
Mark shared a glance with Peter and indicated that the matter should be discussed later. The attending watched Peter's lips twitch, but he silently agreed. Mark shoved the cell phone into his lab coat and glanced behind him, seeing that the crowd at the door had left, at least for now. Malik was still standing in the room just in case he was needed, and probably in order to get first hand information to relay to the rest of the staff.   
  
Peter continued his examination of Carter, prodding for any hidden injuries by testing for tenderness along Carter's abdomen and side. He didn't want to be persuaded by Carter's insistence that he wasn't punched in the stomach or kicked when he was on the floor. It would be just like the younger doctor to continue to shy away or be less than specific when it came to his own discomfort.   
  
As he felt along Carter's ribcage, he noticed how unaffected the man was to his probing. "Carter, man, I know you'll give me this silent stuff until you explain to me this little incident, but I need you to let me know if there is any pain."   
  
Upon receiving no response, Peter shook Carter's shoulder lightly. "Carter." After several more seconds of silence, Peter tensed, and called his name louder as Mark took out his penlight again.   
  
"Carter...Carter!" Peter's voice grew louder in worry rose half an octave, as his friend remained motionless on the bed.   
  
Malik rushed to the gurney as he realized something wasn't right. He had remained at a discreet distance, but was alarmed by the sudden activity. Or Carter's lack of it. "What's wrong?" he asked.   
  
"Sudden loss of consciousness," was Benton's frantic reply.   
  
Peter lowered the bedrail to gain easier access and felt for a pulse. "Pulse has increased...it's 110, from 90 just a few minutes ago." Peter grabbed the blood pressure cuff from the table behind him, where he had discarded it seemingly moments ago.   
  
Mark lifted each of Carter's eyelids, shining the light into each. "Pupils are unequal, but reactive." Mark said, keeping his voice calm for the benefit of the other doctor.   
  
"You want me to call for more help?" Malik asked nervously.   
  
Peter fastened the blood pressure cuff around Carter's limp arm. "No, just make sure you get a room set up for a head CT, now!" Peter shouted, startling the nurse as he ran out.   
  
"He was just fine a minute ago," Peter mumbled to himself. "BP is 140/110." Peter quickly released the cuff. "I want to elevate him to reduce any potential swelling, can you grab some pillows?"   
  
Mark nodded, and gathered two pillows from the nearby closet and brought them over to the bed. Peter placed one hand under Carter's head and the other behind his neck, carefully lifted him up. Mark slid one pillow beneath the man's shoulders and one underneath his head.   
  
"I want an MRI as well," Peter spoke, and locked a gaze with another worried set of eyes.   
  
"We'll do everything thoroughly, Peter," Mark told him.   
  
"He could be hemorrhaging, or have a clot or--" Peter was cut off by a the sudden placement of a hand on his shoulder.   
  
"Peter, look at me," Mark commanded, his hand remaining in contact.   
  
Benton glanced up, but could not help but gaze back down at the unconscious figure in front of him. After a moment, he stared up at Mark.   
  
"He probably has a concussion, but we will rule out anything else," Mark told him pointedly. Any confidence he could relay to Benton at this point would be desperately needed. "I hate to tell you this, Peter, but you are still covering the ER. Why don't you go check on things down there, and you can view the test results when I get them back."   
  
"I'll walk with you there and check the board," Peter answered gruffly, obviously reluctant to leave.   
  
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx   
  
Luka Kovac was sitting in the lounge in the darkest corner he could find. It had taken every reasonable and rational bone in his body to properly treat Logan for his head injury. Dave had been helpful, but even the young resident could not control his distaste for whom they were helping. After surveying and assisting in the examination, Luka left when Kerry came in to finish with the sutures.   
  
He had been panicked when he entered the room, discovering that sonofabitch had attacked Carter, and he could not help but feel responsible for anything that happened to the young man. Luka knew that brooding was not going to do anyone any good, so he sucked in a deep breath and headed back out to confess his role in Carter's scheme. He wanted to let everyone know, so they would not bother Carter about it. Luka just wanted the resident to recover in peace, without any additional stress caused by having to explain his actions to the staff, and namely, to Peter Benton.   
  
Luka was making his way back when he saw Peter storming into the admit area. Luka noticed how much the staff kept their distance from the surgeon, and Malik had a rather "deer caught in the headlights" expression on his face. The Croatian crept over to the male nurse and asked him in a hushed tone, "Is there something else wrong?"   
  
Malik watched Peter erase several names off the board and turned to respond, keeping his voice low. "Dr. Carter might have a head injury. He lost consciousness a few minutes after you left. Dr. Greene felt it was better for Dr. Benton to cover the ER until the tests came back."   
  
Luka closed his eyes in despair. He rubbed at his temples, as the migraine he felt coming on took over his head in full force. As he was massaging his aching head, he heard a commotion and opened his eyes to see Peter staring at him. Upset was not the word to describe the other man's demeanor. It was more like a volcano waiting to explode.   
  
Peter pointed his finger at Luka's chest and spoke, barely keeping the animosity from his voice. "I told you I wanted him to remain in the ICU under close supervision. That is the last time I let you persuade me or I let you question my decisions." Peter bit his lip to keep from continuing, and slammed one of the charts in his hand onto the. "I have no more patients here. Page me if I'm needed," Peter spoke to Randi, ignoring Luka, and stormed away.   
  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx   
  
Peter stepped slowly into the room, making sure he was quiet and unobtrusive. He surveyed the scene before him, his conscious weighing heavier then it had a few hours before. Logan was not seriously hurt, and was immediately transferred to the local jail. He had an appointment with the D.A, who had still been in the hospital at the time. Peter was on his way back to Carter's room when Mark found him and thought he should listen to the tape left in the recorder before handing it over to the police. They went to the lounge where Mark inserted the tape in a waiting cassette player.   
  
Benton listened to the conversation with a vacant stare, while his imagination took over his mind. At first he was slightly proud when he heard the younger man ask some very interesting questions, obviously piecing together parts of a puzzle that others had not considered. As he heard these little tidbits of information, it occurred to him what exactly Carter was hoping to accomplish.   
  
So, he figured out some things. Why didn't he point these out to detectives who did not know anything about medicine or hospital policy? As the semi-interrogation continued, he could hear the difficulty that his friend was having and the toll such confirmation was exacting on his health. Then the questioning transformed to taunting and the mental game that Carter was waging, ever so slowly trying to rattle the other man. Carter was trying to piss off the quick-to-anger bastard, and it was working. Then he did it; Logan confessed, and all hell broke loose. It was hard to tell, but a violent struggle apparently broke out, and the result almost had almost exacted terrible price on them all.   
  
Having heard more than enough, Benton retreated to the ICU. Carter was back on that floor at his insistence. Peter gazed at the monitors connected to Carter, hoping for some improvement.   
  
The surgeon heard the door open, and Romano walked in ever so quietly, his expression somber and his voice surprisingly sympathetic. "We should be getting the test results in a few minutes."   
  
Peter simply nodded.   
  
Romano stood near the edge of the bed, at a loss of what to do or to say to the other doctor. "What are his vitals?" Romano rolled his eyes at such a horrible attempt at conversation, but realized that Peter was too tired to even recognize the lame attempt at small talk.   
  
"His temp has increased to 100.2, his BP and heart rate have increased also." Peter paused to rub at his chin and continued in a mechanical tone of voice. "He can't have any stimulants, so we were forced to take him off the steroids for his lungs, which only serves to complicate his recovery. Mark said he woke up once for a few minutes during his MRI, but he lost consciousness again. When he wakes up he will not be given any sedatives, so that means he'll be in pain from his strained back and they'll be nothing that can be done about it."   
  
Romano was not the consoling type, so he had nothing to add to Peter's disparaging words. All in all, the young man was not in critical shape but Robert knew that Peter was upset because of his inability to keep what he feared from happening, so he remained silent, knowing that platitudes would only come across as insulting. Carter was hooked up to an oxygen mask, his face looked slightly flushed, but these were typical symptoms from a blow to the head. Robert heard the door squeak and saw Mark Greene standing on the outskirts of the room with test films in his hand. Not wanting to be left out, Robert told himself to screw the rules and signaled for the attending to come in.   
  
Mark had already viewed the tests and had consulted others concerning the results. He was prepared for doubts and second opinions, but agreed with the diagnosis. "His head CT did reveal a small clot and some cerebral irritation, but the head of Neuro is very confident that is will resolve itself. It's very small and there is no need for surgery," Mark added while he handing the films to Peter, knowing the man would not be satisfied until he reviewed them himself.   
  
"Well that's good enough for me, keep me posted. I'm going down to the station to make sure our interests are being looked after correctly this time. Despite what happened, I have to say I'm a bit surprised at our dear Dr. Carter's inventiveness for pursuing his own cause. I wouldn't put it past him to have a secret decoder ring hidden somewhere." Romano looked around and noticed that his co- workers didn't appreciate his sense of humor, so he grunted and made his way out of the room.   
  
Mark gave the retreating Chief a perplexed look, and noted how unamused his colleague was. Mark shook his head and began to reason with the unhappy surgeon the brighter outlook of things. "Peter, he doesn't have a skull fracture or--"   
  
"I know all the pros and cons of this diagnosis, Mark," Peter interrupted him.   
  
While the two doctors continued to debate the issue, they did not notice the patient in question slowly coming around. Carter opened his eyes and squinted from the low amount of light in the room. His head pounded, and it felt like his skull was on fire from the inside. He weakly felt the side of his skull, noticing a new row of neatly sewn stitches beneath his fingertips. Touching the area where he was clobbered only sent new sensations of pain through his head and waves of nausea through his stomach.   
  
He shifted unsuccessfully in the bed, catching the attention of the bickering doctors in the room. Both Mark and Peter leaned over him, causing him to feel somewhat smothered. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to disengage the feeling of being suddenly claustrophobic. His stomached churned and all the punishment his body had endured the past few days assaulted him all at once with a million dull aches and sharp pains.   
  
Peter took out a penlight and tested Carter's pupils, receiving a sharp intake of breath in response that only caused his patient to cough violently. The surgeon looked on helplessly as his friend tried to control the coughing while struggling with his intake of oxygen. After the fit had subsided, Peter observed Carter cradle his head.   
  
"You need to lay still and quietly. That means no getting up, no moving around, and no physical activity of any kind," Peter grilled Carter with an expression that meant his orders would be followed to the letter.   
  
For his part, Carter silently accepted the Benton doctrine and grimaced, as the pain in his head only seemed to increase every minute he was awake. He felt restless and was sweating, which only served to make feel even more miserable. "Its hot in here." he said under the mask, his voice conveying his exhaustion.   
  
"You shouldn't talk, Carter." Mark advised him.   
  
"You have a fever, from what I can not determine. It could be from a possible infection from the dramatic foley removal, or from your injured lungs, or from the concussion..." Peter's voice was getting louder and louder from the fear and anger he had been feeling.   
  
"I'm sorry," Carter said weakly.   
  
"Back off, Peter," Mark warned him by placing his hand on the surgeon's shoulder.   
  
Peter bowed his head in remorse. He didn't want to upset John, he just had to vent his feelings at someone. Carter had placed his life in danger to coax a confession out of a violent man, and he had done it with some kind of help. Patience was not one of his strong suits, and he did not know whether he had should wait for Carter to inform him about what transpired earlier in the day.   
  
Carter wet his dry lips under the mask and grimaced again at feelings of lightheadedness. Before he had a chance to inquire about the specifics of his injury, his stomach finally rebelled against him. "I'm going to be sick," he managed to say.   
  
Peter quickly snatched an emesis bowl and held it under John's mouth, while placing a hand under his head. Mark removed the oxygen mask and both men were situated to help as Carter retched in the bowl, but he ended up only coughing up bile since he had been off solid food for days now. His stomach muscles screamed and his chest burned, as he was sick for what seemed like hours. When the nausea pasted, he was gently placed back against his pillow.   
  
Peter thought his friend looked awful, his face was flushed, and he was developing dark circles under his eyes. Mark left and returned with a wet washcloth, which he handed to the surgeon. Peter placed the moist cloth against John's forehead and bathed his neck. Peter clenched his teeth when he noted the bruising around Carter's windpipe, but kept himself from asking the man if toying with Logan was worth being nearly strangled.   
  
Peter placed the washcloth on the table, and rested his hand on the bed, leaning his head against it. Carter had fallen asleep. If Peter could not control that Carter's nausea, then his patient would be in danger of further weakening and dehydration. He would make sure that his antibiotics were monitored closely, and he would give him Compazine. Peter felt a bit flustered after momentarily forgetting he was not alone in the room. Slowly he stood up and took the films with him.   
  
Both men left the room in silence, not knowing what to say to each other. Peter wanted to make damn sure that there would be no other mistakes made regarding Carter's health. He would consult with the head of neurology about the clots and confirm that the medical course of treatment was the safest and most effective. Benton leaned against the wall of the hallway, pondering on how he could determine who Carter's helper had been in all of the recent madness. It had to be someone he could convince or bribe. It could have been a member of the nursing staff, Carter could have just ordered them around, or even paid off in order to get the recorder and phone.   
  
Mark watched his co-worker's expression transform with each flickering thought. He was at a loss as to how their patient could have gotten a hold of things so easily. `Didn't whoever Carter conned into helping him know the extent of the danger they were placing the younger man in?' Mark wondered. The ringing of a phone interrupted his random musing. Startled, Mark looked over at Peter who was staring back at him.   
  
It took a moment before Mark realized the ringing was coming from the cell phone in his lab coat. He pulled it out cautiously, as if it were a ticking bomb. He hit the talk key and spoke into it. "Hello?"   
  
Peter watched intently as Mark talked to the person on the only line. The attending's eyes widened during the caller's portion of the conversation.   
  
"No, this is not he," Mark replied, his face taking on a shade of red.   
  
"Yes, I'll be sure to tell him you called." Mark punched the end button on the phone and placed it back in his lab coat. He looked up at Peter, his expression dumbfounded.   
  
Peter turned and squared his shoulders in order to look as intimidating as possible. "So, who the hell does the phone belong to?" he demanded.   
  
"Peter, I want you to calm down," Mark asked.   
  
"Just tell me who they were asking for, Mark," Peter insisted impatiently.   
  
Mark looked down at the floor and answered, "Luka Kovac."   
  
Peter grabbed Mark's lab coat pocket and pulled out the incriminating cell phone. "I'll kill him," he said, and violently brushed past Mark on his was to the admitting area.  
Luka Kovac had retreated to the confines of the lounge. His shift had ended an hour ago, but he remained there in order to do some intensive reading. He did not want to go back to the ICU when he knew both Mark and Peter were there attending to Carter's new complications. He would confront the two physicians when tensions were not so high. Luka cursed himself for letting any of this transpire. He allowed Carter to convince him of the worthiness of the deed and talk him into believing that it would be somewhat safe.   
  
Carter was a smart man, he conned him into retrieving the phone and the recorder by insisting that it was the only way to bring Logan to justice. There were other reasons for the risk that Luka had noted, even if Carter did not say it out loud, or consciously realized it. John was trying to protect more then self interests and Luka knew that the young resident did not need to endure anymore emotional stress or guilt.   
  
So, he took the chance, and in Luka's mind, he lost. Frustrated, the Croatian gave the nurse his medical I.D. and after many rounds of self-assurances was able to get a copy of John's chart. The doctor had spent the remaining hours combing through John's medical history and making notations of his current stay. Too many smaller injuries were mounting, creating a slower recovery than normal. He had violated the physician's code, so it didn't matter whether Benton, Greene, or anyone would ever accept what he did; Luka knew he would never be able to condone his own actions.   
  
Luka placed the folder on his lap and ran his hand over his face and through his hair. His head hurt and he was exhausted, but he knew sleep would not come for him tonight, or any time soon for that matter. He stretched his back and stared at the ceiling. The slamming and then locking of the lounge door quickly eroded his distracted focus on the tiles. Knowing what was about to transpire, Luka took a deep breath and stood up to face the overly aggressive and protective surgeon.   
  
It was a wonder that the cell phone Peter was holding had not cracked under the pressure of his intense grip. He shook the device as he spoke; each word was barely audible from the battle between control and fury.   
  
"You gave a very sick patient a telephone to call a man that we had guards posted outside the door to keep from coming in and then you convinced me to have him transferred so that same individual could gain access to him?" Peter asked incredulously.   
  
Luka would not deny it, so he simply answered, "Yes."   
  
Peter stepped closer as he tried to comprehend things as he was discussing them. "What did you think he was going to do with the tape recorder? Dictate his thoughts?" Peter asked angrily.   
  
"No, I knew he was going to ask Logan some things in order to get a confession out of him, I did not know he was going to taunt him into giving one." Luka explained trying to keep his voice calm.   
  
"Well Logan also used it to bash his head in just like this!" Peter took Luka's cell phone and slammed it onto the counter and the device seemed to explode, sending little plastic pieces everywhere.   
  
Breathing hard from releasing just some of his anger, Peter stood still only a moment before tearing back into the doctor. "He has a concussion because of you!" Peter pointed his finger at Luka as he continued releasing his fury at the other doctor. "Do you have any idea what kind of set back you have caused? Not only do we have to take him off his breathing treatment for his seared lungs, he's off his morphine!"   
  
Peter approached Luka; his breath coming in and out in short bursts. "Any complications from here on out are result of your ethical violations as a doctor and I place you personally responsible for every extra minute he is in pain." Peter waited for a reaction, for anything.   
  
Luka watched the surgeon twitch with uncontrolled emotion; the other doctor wanted any excuse to rip into him. "Do you want to hit me Dr. Benton? Would that make you feel better? Will that make Carter recover any faster?" Luka asked, his accent thicker from the stress.   
  
Peter considered the idea for a second. He was correct, all he wanted to do right now was beat the hell out of the him, but his better half that was overwhelmed by his inability to express himself was keeping him from acting according to his intentions.   
  
"What I want from you is the reason you aided Carter in this ridiculous plan. Cut all the bullshit about seeking justice, because I don't want to hear it," the surgeon growled.   
  
Luka looked away and muttered quietly. "I thought he could handle it."   
  
"He couldn't even walk!" Peter yelled in a quivering voice.   
  
Luka spun to face him and he stared at him, eye to eye. "I took the chance that he could fix one thing...one thing that was out of his control." Luka's voice rose as he spoke, all of his feelings coming out in one large flourish of emotion. "You're right, I don't know Carter as well as you do, but I know how to speak to people."   
  
Luka began to pace around the room gesturing wildly as he talked. Peter stood there stunned, just listening. "He coaxed that confession for you! Carter doesn't want the extra burden of knowing you could not deliver on your promise that Logan would be arrested. You assured him that somehow you would make sure that he was arrested and convicted even though you had no control over such things. How dare you make such promises! You...you don't know how to speak with words, you show people how you feel with actions. Carter knows this, you taught him this way of communicating!"   
  
Luka stopped only to catch his breath and face the angry doctor. "Carter wanted to reassure himself that he could take command of his own life and do it for himself. Carter can't bring back Lucy, he can't show Romano that he's 100 percent, so he's left with one thing he can make amends with. He felt he could get the proof needed to arrest Logan, a person responsible for his hospitalization, and release you from some sort of debt."   
  
"So somehow this is my fault?" Peter questioned.   
  
"No, no, no, there is no fault!" Luka implored. He continued to walk around the room. "Yes, I'm to blame." Luka faced the surgeon. "So blame me! I did it! He confided to me what he wanted to do." Luka placed his hands on his hips, his voice taking an exasperated tone. "He's very persuasive when he wants to be."   
  
Peter avoided eye contact with the foreign doctor, his mind reeling with all this new information. "You should have told someone. You had an obligation to keep a patient in a serious state of ill health from a dangerous situation, no matter how good your intentions." Peter said bitterly.   
  
Luka nodded. "I know, and I was wrong. I'll never forgive myself."   
  
Peter stalked over to Luka, grabbing the lapels of the doctor's lab coat. "That's not good enough. Where was your guilt when Logan was trying to strangle him, huh?" Peter shook Luka and the other doctor let him.   
  
Both doctors heard loud tapping on the glass window of the door to the lounge. Peter felt his anger swell and willed himself to calm down. He let go of Luka and spoke to him, his voice threatening. "You stay away from my patient, I don't want to catch you near him."   
  
Luka understood why Peter was feeling this way, but he felt the other doctor did not have the right to keep him away from anyone. "I want to know how's he doing. I want to know what you're doing for the cranial bleeding."   
  
Peter shook his head. "You want to know, here." The surgeon took out a several sheets of paper, and flipped through them, stopping on a desired page. He ripped it away and flung it at the other doctor. "You can read a copy of how I'm treating these new sets of complications."   
  
Without a second thought, Peter unlocked the lounge door and scattered the crowd whom had been eavesdropping on the heated argument. Luka picked up the sheet of paper off the floor and sat down wearily to read it.   
  
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx   
  
John decided that counting ceiling tiles had lost its appeal days ago. Staring at them for long periods of time did not distract him; it did not make him sleepy, in fact the idea of any form of mathematics only increased the pain in his head. He was exhausted, miserable, and hot. It was impossible to stay still, but the slightest movement only caused his stomach to roll or his head to pound.   
  
Mark Greene watched the restless resident from the corner of the room. He did not want to disturb him and the attending was impatiently waiting for Peter to return to administer the medications that their patient needed. Peter had been terse and to the point. While he was present, he would be the only one to inject medications or sign orders for procedures. Mark moved aside when he saw the door open and Benton enter the room.   
  
"How's he been?" Peter asked in a hushed tone.   
  
"His nausea has increased and he's been restless." Mark turned to look at the other man. "I heard through the grapevine you had somewhat of a confrontation earlier, I'm glad you didn't do anything foolish."   
  
Peter grunted his dissatisfaction and made his way to the bed. His patient faced him, trying to hide the grimace his movement caused.   
  
"Guess that's," pause, "the last time I do something so," small gasp, "stupid." Carter said.   
  
"You're right, it was stupid thing to do, and one I'll never understand." Peter responded while checking Carter's vitals. The surgeon frowned.   
  
"Been sick several times?" Peter asked.   
  
Carter merely nodded and shifted slightly, trying to get comfortable with so many extra pillows shoved behind him for elevation. "Everyone thinks I'm deaf, but I'm not."   
  
Another shuddering breath. "Don't blame Dr. Kovac for what happened." Carter continued to speak under the mask, knowing that his friend could understand him after several days of communicating this way. "I made him do it." Carter closed his eyes, willing the pain away.   
  
Peter chose to ignore him as he proceeded to look at equipment readouts. "I examined your CT and MRI results and I'm pretty certain we can avoid surgery at this point. I think the medication will reduce the clotting, but it'll be a few days before we can resume the Abertrol treatments. I'll be monitoring your pulse ox and resps really closely, so this means no talking."   
  
"I don't care," was John's weak reply.   
  
Peter began to change the burn dressings on his chest. "These don't look too bad, when you get home be sure to keep changing them and I'll doubt there will be any scarring," Peter went on, his voice and demeanor monotone.   
  
John took his hand and placed it on the surgeon's to stop his ministrations. "What do you want from me?" he asked, his voice still very raspy.   
  
"I want you to care, damn it!" Peter shouted. The surgeon could sense Mark's gaze at him from the corner but he chose to ignore him. "You ran into a burning building twice, you lied to me about how you were feeling in the hallway, and you placed yourself in a situation that resulted in your stay here!" Peter indicated the ICU room.   
  
"I also placed an maniac in jail and saved you the torture of a guilty conscious!" John wheezed back. The effort of yelling only resulted with a bout of coughing that he couldn't control. He couldn't stop his lungs from seizing and his chest burned ferociously. He couldn't catch his breath and he panicked.   
  
Peter quickly reacted by increasing the oxygen to 10 liters and placed his arm around Carter's back. The younger man grabbed the railing as he rode the coughing fit out and sagged against Peter's side. Peter rubbed his hand up and down the doctor's arm, trying to calm him down.   
  
"I'm sorry," Carter muttered between gasps. "I just wanted to fix things," he said, choking on the words.   
  
Peter saw Mark approach the bed and the surgeon warned him away with a stare. "It's okay man, it's all over." John seemed to break down in the bed, a wave of emotions exploding. "You didn't have to do that alone, you could of told me." Peter responded in a softer voice.   
  
John shook his head, "You'd talk ...me out...of it."   
  
"Yeah, you're probably right, there could have been safer ways. I hope next time when you're faced with such a stressful choice you might...share it with me." Peter struggled to find the words to express himself.   
  
"Maybe."   
  
"You better." Peter replied in an insincerely forceful voice.   
  
The surgeon overruled his inner voices and embraced the other doctor in a quick hug.   
  
John appreciated the gesture and relaxed back into the bed. "It's been...so hard...lately. I...thought I could...handle things alone. I... think...I need to work...some things out." He inhaled deeply from his mask. "I...I might talk to someone about...it."   
  
Peter patted him on the shoulder. "That might be a good idea, Carter." Not used to displays of emotion, Peter smoothed out his unwrinkled scrubs "When you're feeling better, I can arrange for someone to come down and talk to you."   
  
The older doctor studied his patient, taking in his grayish pallor. "Okay, let's take care of the nausea and keep you hydrated." Peter injected the Compazine into one of the IV ports. "I'm increasing your dosages of widespread antibiotics for the fever," Peter said, changing one of the bags of solutions.   
  
John closed his eyes while he was given the different medications. He chastised himself for his previous actions, thinking at the time it was worth the trouble. John did not know if he could count on anyone else's support, in a weird way he was glad that he had misjudged others. Too bad it took getting the sense knocked into him to make such a realization.   
  
John couldn't let Peter leave without at least trying to change his mind about Luka. "Dr. Benton, please give...Dr. Kovac a chance--"   
  
"Carter, be quiet." Peter tried to keep his patient from wearing himself out.   
  
"Please, Dr. Benton...he was helping me--"   
  
Peter placed his hand on John's chest to indicate that it was time finish talking." He used bad judgment and that's the last time I'll speak about it."   
  
Realizing he had just spoken to his friend like a child, Peter amended his words. "He made a hasty decision about a patient's care, yours," Peter said pointedly to John, "and I don't trust his medical opinion."   
  
Peter gathered the medical waste and disposed of it in one of the receptacles. "Now, try to relax and I'll be back in a while." Peter joined Mark walking out the door.   
  
Mark remained silent, not wanting to comment on any part of the exchange he overheard. He was just relieved that this day was coming to an end, and that their patient was doing better and a certain surgeon did not punch out one of his co-workers.   
  
They rounded the corner and Mark's peace of mind became short-lived when he saw Luka running down the hall out of breath. The attending stole a glance at Peter, seeing his jaw was set and his posture straightened. 'This was not the time for this,' Mark thought.   
  
Luka's expression was urgent and he gestured with his hand for both men to stop.   
  
"Dr. Benton, you need to go back in there and take him off the Compazine!" Luka said breathlessly.   
  
Peter had definitely had enough of Luka Kovac for one day. "I told you to stay away--"   
  
"Peter, be quiet! Did you give him Compazine or not?" Luka was directly in Peter's face.   
  
Mark intervened by grabbing Luka and pulling him away from the surgeon who was about to lose his fleeting cool.   
  
"Yes, I gave him Compazine for his nausea!" Peter hollered back, his patience depleted.   
  
"Take him off it now!" Luka shouted and tried to get past both doctors blocking his way.   
  
"What the hell are you babbling about, Kovac?" Peter asked, his voice rising.   
  
"Enough! Both of you!" Mark shouted as he struggled to keep Luka and Benton away from each other.   
  
"I've been reading his medical history. He's allergic to Compazine!" Luka said urgently.   
  
Peter's eyes grew large in horror. "Damn it!" He barreled down the hallway and busted through the ICU room.   
  
John woke up startled as Peter came charging in. Without warning, the other doctor ripped out his IV.   
  
"Ouch! What did you do that for, Dr. Benton?" John asked as the surgeon placed his hand on the source of the bleeding.   
  
"Nothing, nothing," Peter muttered as he searched for a bandage. He found one, and applied it to the IV site and taped it down. "I'll start another one," Peter said, his voice slightly uneasy.   
  
"Why did you tear out the one I had?" John looked at his mentor with bewilderment.   
  
"I...I gave you Compazine and I didn't know you were allergic to it," Peter explained while keeping his voice soft.   
  
John knew that voice, the one that could not admit to a mistake. John watched somewhat fascinated as the doctor silently attached a new IV to his arm. His face was impassive except for a slight twitch. John remained silent himself, not wanting to disturb Peter in the midst of self-doubt.   
  
Peter finished cleaning the mess made and glanced up almost sheepishly. "Feeling any odd effects? I mean, you shouldn't, since there shouldn't be much in your system," Peter's words were spoken quickly.   
  
John just shook his head no. He wasn't worried about the mistake and he wasn't about to complain. Peter was giving himself a hard enough time as it was.   
  
"Good, then I need to go."   
  
Peter left in a hurry of embarrassment or shame, Carter wasn't sure which. The thought of his muscles stiffening and the feeling of having a stroke that the Compazine would have made him experience was not something he wanted to go through again. The one time Dennis Gant had given him some was one too many times for him. It scared him for a moment, the prospect of such a reaction in his medical condition, but it didn't happen.   
  
It was time to count sheep now, he mused, as he tried to drift off to sleep.   
  
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx The Next Day   
  
Robert folded his hands on the front of his oak desk. In his office he felt like the king and as the domineer, overlooking a disgruntled subject, only made him smile. Yes, he smirked, something he worked very hard to obtain. The matter before him was serious and that was the reason why his smile was a facade. He wasn't as cold hearted as everyone presumed, but the less they knew the better.   
  
"Tsk, tsk, tsk, Peter. Didn't you learn to check case histories when administering drugs to a patient?" Robert knew his question was rhetorical, but he enjoyed rattling people's cages, especially Peter's. It was so much fun to watch him react.   
  
"Well, are you going to answer me or continue your impersonation of a statue?" he asked condescended.   
  
Peter looked away briefly, but brought his eyes back to the person in front of him. He held his hands in the air and brought them down in a quick, jerky expression. "I missed it."   
  
Robert slammed his fist down on his desk. "You missed it, Peter, and the result could have sent the young doctor into shock," Robert said curtly.   
  
"I caught it in time," Peter defended.   
  
"Taking credit from others? Dr. Kovac caught it, you just tore the damn thing out of him." Robert corrected, his tone as chastising as ever.   
  
Peter shifted in his seat and muttered to himself.   
  
"What's that, Peter? I can't hear you," Robert taunted.   
  
"I said none of it would have happened if Kovac had not conspired with Carter to bring Logan into his room, resulting in his current status," Peter replied brusquely.   
  
"We're talking about your mistakes here, Peter, no one else's." Robert eyed him intently.   
  
Peter remained silent, having nothing else to say.   
  
Robert sighed dramatically. "Don't worry there, I already grilled Kovac for his actions and have dealt with him in my own way. You, on the other hand, need to review your medical judgment. Shall we?" Robert rose from his chair and leaned against the edge of the desk.   
  
"Cheer up Peter, I have good news. Seems like good old Chuck is being hung out to dry. When he was confronted with the taped confession, the detectives took a cue from Carter and egged him on. That superiority complex took over damn quickly and he spilled his guts about the whole ordeal. He'll be in prison for a long time."   
  
Peter looked up and felt a sense of relief.   
  
"So, in a roundabout sort of way, Carter is responsible for Logan's arrest. I won't come down too hard on him, I think the whack on the head taught him a thing or two about playing cowboy." Robert rolled his eyes when he saw Peter's scowl at his poor tact.   
  
"Okay, lecture over." Robert stood up. "By the way, try not to be so hard on the foreign guy, he did go after your butt in the fire and if I recall correctly, helped drag everyone out. I think all of us used some bad judgment and I don't know, learned a thing or two."   
  
Peter exited the Chief's office and saw Luka hovering outside.   
  
The other doctor looked up. "He wanted to see me again when you were done," Luka said.   
  
"Yeah, well, glad you caught the allergic reaction in Carter's medical chart," Peter said.   
  
Luka nodded accepting the fact that this was as close he would ever get to making amends with the other doctor. "I'm glad the bleeding was controlled by medication, he should be released in a week or so, no?"   
  
Peter nodded. "He'll resume his treatments for a few days, and once we wean him off oxygen, he'll go home next week."   
  
There was an awkward silence and Luka simply replied, "Good."  
One week later   
  
John hobbled to the door after hearing the persistent knocking. He had just been released from the hospital a couple days ago, and since then phone calls and visitors had barraged him. John was tired, but nothing could destroy the happiness he felt since being released. On his last day at County Judith had called and insisted that John and all of his friends come to her house for a victory dinner. Somehow, the elderly woman pressured Peter into driving him to her home once he was settled.   
  
John was less than thrilled with the prospect and was equally shocked when Peter agreed. He even went as far as checking his IV to make sure no one had slipped him morphine when he wasn't looking. The gesture was not lost on the other doctor, and he had been on a receiving end of another trademark 'I'm not in the mood for this' Benton stare.   
  
The knocking continued and John opened the door to let the surgeon into his apartment. Peter entered, seeming somewhat relaxed instead of his usual abrupt and serious manner. The other doctor watched his friend limp back to his couch and bend down ever so slowly to put his dress shoes on. Peter noticed that the younger doctor had one of his nice dark suits and a gray tie on.   
  
Peter had dressed in one of his own suits as well. He knew it was not a formal affair, but felt the need to dress up, as Carter seemed eager about the invitation. Peter studied the other man carefully with physician's eyes. Carter still moved around gingerly since it would take a while for his strained muscles and inflammation to heal. Peter had arranged for physical therapy to take place three times a week, since even before the fire Carter had still been recovering from his surgery merely ten weeks ago. The younger man still had to visit a respiratory therapist twice a week for his ongoing treatment for the chemical damage to his lungs.   
  
John looked up at Peter and smiled. "Don't worry, Dr. Benton, I'm taking things easy." The younger doctor felt the waves of concern emanating from the man across from him.   
  
Peter shook his head to deny such musings. "I'm not concerned, just making sure I don't have to see your face as a patient anymore," Peter replied nonchalantly.   
  
John grinned, knowing the falsity of the words and stood up. "You ready to go?"   
  
Peter looked around the room. "Yeah, but where's your cane?" The older doctor had sent Carter home with a walking cane because he was still experiencing some left-sided weakness, enough that he could not drive his stick shift yet.   
  
John crossed his arms. "I still have it, but I just don't want to use it over at Mrs. Cobb's house. I don't want to deal with the fuss or the worry." His voice was adamant.   
  
Peter knew that stubborn tone and did not want to argue when his friend was looking forward to the dinner. "Fine, but you use it every other time, you understand, Carter?"   
  
John heard the doctor's voice loud and clear. "I will, Dr. Benton."   
  
John picked up a flower arrangement lying on a table near the door, and both men left for their celebration dinner.   
  
XXXXXXX   
  
Peter pulled into the driveway of a small brick home in the suburbs of Chicago. Both men got of Peter's vehicle and the older doctor noticed the BMW parked next to his. "Looks like Romano is here," he said unhappily.   
  
John looked surprised, he didn't think the Chief of Staff would have accepted Judith's invitation. Judith offered it during her last visit to the hospital. She had come back for an appointment concerning her Bell's Palsy, and brought Carter some books to read for his remaining days in the hospital.   
  
John climbed the stairs, carefully keeping his hand on the railing, well aware of the other doctor's astute observation of his movements. It hurt to scale even the small set of stairs, but he was assured that months of physical therapy was going to rehabilitate his back from both his surgery and his new injuries.   
  
An overjoyed Mrs. Cobb greeted both doctors after they rang the doorbell. The elderly woman gave John a huge hug that he reciprocated, slightly blushing from the exuberance. Judith even went as far as to hug Peter, who, embarrassedly, gave her a small squeeze back and bowed his head when he saw Carter smiling at him. The men were ushered into the living room where they could smell the food baking in the kitchen.   
  
"Dr. Carter, why don't you sit here?" Judith asked, pointing to a large plush chair.   
  
"Thank you, Judith," John replied, settling himself into the comfortable seat.   
  
Peter remained standing and heard clashing noises coming from the kitchen area. He turned in shock to see Robert Romano emerging from the other room with an apron wrapped around his waist. Peter's eyebrows rose as he suppressed any offhand remarks about his boss's odd appearance. He turned sharply when he heard Carter snicker.   
  
Robert eyed the younger doctor with an amused expression. He noted Carter's grin and inability to disguise his reaction. "Laugh it up, Dr. Carter. I'll have you know that I'm a pretty good cook, when I have to be. Especially when I working with such a lovely lady," Robert said, laying the charm on thick.   
  
Peter found an interesting spot on his shoes to admire so he could avoid rolling his eyes at his boss. Judith burst out laughing from her guests' comedic exchanges.   
  
"You dear people really are funny. Now I hope you're hungry, the food will be ready when that other fine doctor arrives," Judith announced as she sat on the edge of the blue couch next to Carter's chair.   
  
Peter took a deep breath, but he wasn't going to spoil anything. He crossed glances with Romano, whose face lit up like a Christmas tree.   
  
"Yep, we're all going to be on our best behavior," Romano said cheerily as went back into the kitchen.   
  
"You look much better, Dr. Carter. I mean, John," Judith corrected.   
  
John shifted uncomfortably. "Thank you, I'm feeling a lot better." It dawned on the younger doctor that he left Judith's flowers in the car.   
  
Peter noticed the change of expression on his friend's face and the way he glanced at his hands. "What's the matter, Carter?" he asked.   
  
John began to stand. "I left something in the car."   
  
Peter motioned his friend to remain seated. "I know what it was, just stay put."   
  
John frowned at the unwanted attention, but he sat back down without protest. He and Judith engaged in pleasant conversation as the surgeon walked back to the car. As he retrieved the bouquet, another car pulled in and Luka Kovac exited his Saab.   
  
Both men stood motionless when they saw each other, silence being the only thing exchanged between them. Luka pulled out a bottle of wine from the seat and decided to be the first one to speak. "I was running a little late. Um...is everyone already here?"   
  
Peter looked down as he spoke. "Yeah, we just arrived a few minutes ago. Romano seems like he has been here for a while."   
  
Luka nodded. When nothing else came to mind to say, he started towards the steps. Peter remained stationary for a moment and followed him without a word. Both men entered the living room where Judith met them.   
  
"Dr. Kovac, you look so handsome!" Judith remarked when she saw the doctor's tailored chocolate colored suit.   
  
Peter rolled his eyes and felt the need to get away from such pleasantries. He congratulated himself from not audibly letting Luka know how he felt, and escaped to the kitchen. He would keep things civil for Carter's sake.   
  
John, for his part, was restless from sitting in the chair. When he saw Benton walk in without his flowers, he felt a bit frustrated that Luka's arrival would make him forget the very reason he went to the car in the first place. John slowly stood up, and Luka glanced at him.   
  
"Hey, I see you are doing a lot better than the last time I saw you," Luka remarked with a slight smile.   
  
"Thanks, I guess it was kind of awkward at the hospital for a while. I'm sorry about that," John said, his voice remorseful.   
  
Luka's smile only broadened. "Hey, it's over with, no? You're better and all the things we talked about have been resolved. When will you return to work?"   
  
John scratched his head. "I'm not sure. In a few weeks, I guess. One of the things I came to realize is that I came back a little too early the first time I was hospitalized. I have some therapy to go through and when I resume working, I want to be a 100 percent when treating patients." John said this with no bitterness or resentment.   
  
Luka patted his shoulder. "Well, I think it is best for you, to be completely healthy before trying to heal the world," Luka said, happy that his colleague was not going to repeat the past and over do things again.   
  
John appreciated his friend's understanding and excused himself. "I left something in the car, I'll be right back."   
  
Luka turned his attention back to Mrs. Cobb when she started to speak. "Such a nice and sweet young man, isn't he?"   
  
Luka nodded and extended his arm when she gestured for it. Luka escorted her to the dining room. "Yes, he certainly is."   
  
XXXXXXX   
  
Peter was not thrilled with the idea of interacting with Romano, but in his attempt to create distance between him and Luka he had had no other alternative at the time. He watched Robert chop vegetables with more delight than should be experienced in the kitchen.   
  
"Your buddy must have shown up for you to be hiding out in the kitchen with me," Robert said casually with an inflection of humor.   
  
Peter picked up a carrot and began to chew on it so he would not have to respond.   
  
"That's not polite, Peter." Robert chastised him for eating before dinner was served. "Why don't you help set up the table or something?"   
  
When he received a blank stare, Robert put his hands to his hips. "Come on, now. You can set a table, can't you?"   
  
Peter furrowed his brow, and started picking up plates of food and carried them into the dinning room. He groaned to himself when he interrupted Luka and Judith carrying on and laughing. He placed the plates of vegetables down and turned to retrieve more.   
  
Luka got up from his seat and called out, "Do you need any help, Dr. Benton?"   
  
"I'm handling it just fine, Kovac," he yelled back.   
  
Luka sighed with irritation, and Judith took notice of Luka's expression of frustration. "Why don't you and Dr. Benton get along, dear?"   
  
Luka smiled as he spoke. "Difference of medical opinion."   
  
Peter made two more trips between the kitchen and the dining room. Satisfied that he had kept out of everyone's way, he went back to the living room to keep Carter company. He walked into the living room and noticed that his chair was vacant. Recalling that he didn't notice the younger man with Judith or Luka, he returned to the dining room.   
  
"Where's Carter?" he asked both of them.   
  
Luka looked past Peter to see if he could locate the subject in question. "He went back to the car for something, I think."   
  
Peter rolled his eyes; he had forgotten the flowers after running into Luka. Peter entered the hallway and found Carter leaning against the wall for support with the flowers in his left hand. The door to the outside was ajar and the younger doctor seemed a little winded.   
  
Peter quickly moved towards him, but Carter waved him way with the flowers, which might have been comical if the surgeon had not been so concerned about his friend's health.   
  
"Don't be so stubborn, Carter, have you learned it's okay to ask for help?" Peter said in an annoyed tone.   
  
John relented and Peter led him by his elbow to the plush chair in the living room. He gripped the side of the chair as he lowered himself back into the chair and groaned when his stiff back protested the movement. "I was just a bit short of breath and the muscle relaxers make me tired so..."   
  
"So you didn't take them," Peter finished his sentence for him. "You need to take it easy for a while, no strenuous activities, your lungs are not completely healed."   
  
John just gave him a sheepish grin. Before the other doctor could chastise him, Judith entered the living room. Upon seeing the red roses in John's grasp, she blushed and placed her hands over his face in surprise. "Oh, John, you shouldn't have!"   
  
The lines of discomfort on Carter's face washed away and were replaced with an expression of delight. John handed the flowers to her and she leaned down to give him another hug. His muscles were still tender, but he was so filled with joy that it didn't matter. John gave Judith a giant bear hug that reminded him of the childhood days he spent with his grandmother.   
  
"It's been a long time since a man has given me flowers, and such a good looking man at that! I'm so lucky to be surrounded by all of you handsome doctors." Judith was becoming emotional and felt a slight tear slide down her face. "I still thank the Lord everyday that you came back for me in that building, Dr. Carter. I can't believe anyone would care about a little old lady like that. You're my hero." Judith wiped at her eyes.   
  
Peter continued to look down at the floor, slightly embarrassed to be witnessing such an emotional moment, but Judith's words really made him realize how lucky she was to have a supporter like John Carter. He searched the room to occupy his gaze with something else in order to give the two more privacy, and saw Luka standing on the outside of the room.   
  
John rose from his chair stiffly to hold Judith, as she was overcome by emotion. He stroked her long silver hair, but he was not depressed. He felt a wonderful sense of accomplishment.   
  
Judith composed herself and looked over at both Peter and Luka. "I'm also so relieved to know that John has such good friends and co- workers who came in to help us. If neither of you young men had arrived, I hate to think how John and I would have gotten out."   
  
Luka and Peter exchanged looks and expressions, both slightly self- conscious as well.   
  
"All three of you are brave men, and I'm so happy to have you in my home to share dinner with me." Judith gave each man an embrace. "Now, let's chow down, you look like you need to eat more, John," Judith chiding him gently in a motherly tone.   
  
Peter laughed. "You should see how much he does eat."   
  
Judith led the way into the dinning room with Luka and John behind her. Peter remained behind Carter, just in case he needed assistance. He limped heavily to the dinner table, but made it there without any further difficulties.   
  
Robert Romano had overheard the emotional display and decided to keep his comments to himself. There was a little healing left to be done, but he was relatively assured that some of it had been accomplished this night. He brought with him the lasagna he had helped prepared. The night was not filled with tension; all of it had melted after the shared moments in the living room.   
  
After the meal had been devoured, all four doctors retreated to the living room. Judith brought out her photo album and showed them pictures of her husband and past friends. Romano asked her where her camera was, and went in search of it.   
  
John stifled a yawn after the dinner and decided that instead of hiding his discomfort he would be upfront with it. "I'm feeling a bit worn out, Judith, I think I need to head home soon."   
  
Peter hid his smile and Judith patted him on the knee. "No problem darling, you're still recouping and need lots of sleep to get all better."   
  
Robert returned, camera in hand, with a huge smile plastered over his face. "Mrs. Cobb, I think we need to add another photo to your collection. Okay people, gather around the fireplace."   
  
John and Judith stood next to each other as Peter and Luka created the bookends of the picture. Robert took a couple of shots, and then one of Judith and John together. When all the posing was over with, each person made his or her goodbyes.   
  
Judith gave another round of hugs to the doctors, and even Peter allowed himself to be briefly hugged. Judith took John by the hand and led him over to the corner. "Whenever you need to talk to someone or want the company of an old lady, you just give me a call."   
  
John smiled. "I will, Judith, and I plan on making you dinner next time."   
  
"Now as much as I appreciated what you did for me, please don't do any more heroic stuff for a long time," she said with a hint of humor.   
  
John nodded with a smile. "I'll try." He leaned in and gave her a kiss on the cheek.   
  
While the younger doctor and Judith conversed, Peter decided it was time to have a word with the Croatian doctor. "I will never condone what you did last week, but I understand why you did it and the kind of position Carter put you in. I think we all have judgment errors, let's just not try to have any more."   
  
Luka nodded and did not push things too far by shaking the surgeon's hands. "I think we all earned a few lessons, including Carter. I just hope we remain more astute about asking and giving our friends' help."   
  
Peter nodded in return, noticing how Romano remained silently during the exchange, but he could tell by his expression that this was all part of a carefully orchestrated plan. John made his way to the hallway and all four doctors made their exits.   
  
Peter drove Carter to his apartment and walked him to his door. He could tell the younger man was exhausted, but he had seemed to regain a certain spark that had been lacking for months. The quiet man turned to Peter. "I made an appointment to see Dr. DeRaad on Thursday, um...do you think you could give me a ride?" John asked hesitantly.   
  
"Sure thing, man," Peter replied.   
  
"I understand a lot about myself, Dr. Benton, that I was pretty confused about. I think it'll take some time to get over what has happened these past few months, but I know that there are people to turn to if I need some support." Carter kept his voice low just in case he had crossed an invisible line with his mentor.   
  
He looked up, afraid to see an expression of uneasiness on Benton's face from such an admission; instead, he saw understanding.   
  
"I'm glad you know that, Carter. If you need anything, just give me a call," he replied.   
  
John smiled. "Thank you, Dr. Benton."   
  
Feeling slightly odd, Peter gave John a quick hug and watched him enter his apartment. "You're going to be all right, Carter," he told the closed the door. For the first time in ages, Peter did not worry for the younger man.   
  
John sat on his couch wearily, but with more confidence than he felt in a long time. He was on his road to recovery, both mentally and physically, and he knew he had the kind of friends that would help him if he needed it. He knew he could ask for assistance when he needed to. Satisfied, he turned on the TV and fell asleep on his couch.   
  
The end  
  
Thanks to all of you for supporting this story!!! There will be another one soon.  
  



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